Everytime
by ThePandoricaWillOpen
Summary: Destinies are funny little complicated things. Some, like that of the Winchester's, can be changed and even re-written. But others, like my own, are a fixed point in time that cannot be changed no matter how hard you try. Castiel looks back on the last few years of his life with the Winchesters. Destiel, M for later chapters. On Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**_**: **Everytime_

**Beta:** None. All mistakes are my own.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Time:** S4:E1: Lazarus Rising

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. If i did, Castiel wouldn't have died and would have instead ran into Dean's arms at the end of Season Six, begging for forgiveness. The Dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke._

* * *

_"Notice me_

_Take my hand_

_Why are we_

_Strangers when..._

_Our love was strong_

_Why carry on without me"_

* * *

It was a difficult thing, getting Dean Winchester out of hell. Going into hell without being found out while searching its endless abyss for a single soul among _hundreds_ of _thousands_ of _billions_ of souls was hard enough but getting out without as much as alerting a single demon was harder. To raise him from perdition the fastest, I had to use my Grace, which instinctively reaches out towards Dean's soul – it being the purest thing in hell - and leaves a handprint on his delicate human skin.

It was simple to grow back the skin and tissue from his rotting body, but difficult to watch as the raised skin in the shape of my hand forms on his pale flesh. I feel shame at having hurt the very thing I had been sent to save. But there is nothing to do but flee as Dean, body and soul restored, begins to regain consciousness.

Later on, as I follow him into a small gas station, where he see the mark I've left him in the bathroom mirror, I try to speak to him. Foolishly believing he is one of the chosen few who could see my true form, I begin my arrival as he loots the cash register. The television behind him turns on, then the radio and soon the entire building is shaking. I continue to descend as he puts salt lines along the windowsills. But then he clutches his head in pain dropping the salt a moment later to crouch on the floor in agony and I knew he could not take in my true form. It saddened me as I retreat, the window shattering signaling my leaving.

I follow him for a while after that to make sure he hadn't been injured during my failed attempt at speaking with him. When he get to Robert Singer's place and is attacked by the man, I almost interfere. But pretty soon, he has the situation under control and I stay back, hidden in the shadows. As they speak - incorrectly assuming Dean's brother, Sam, had made a deal with a demon and gotten him out - I make plans to try, once more, to speak with him. Surely, one failed attempt was all right for someone who had just risen from hell.

I follow them as they go to the Astoria Motel, arriving there late at night, to see Sam. Once again, Dean is attacked but Robert Singer holds off the tall man from killing Dean. Eventually, they talk and Sam admits to having tried and failed to resurrect Dean. I leave after Singer told them about knowing a psychic who could help, to which both men agree to try. I no longer need to follow Dean to know that he would be safe, with his brother – as changed as he was – he is, for the most part, safe.

Retreating back to heaven, I find myself searching for alternative ways of communicating with Dean. I search for a vessel fitting for my Grace and find one only a few blocks from the motel the Winchester's are in. Jimmy Novak, a devout and astute man who, almost nightly, prayed to be someone. I travel back in time to few weeks earlier and gain my way into his life, asking only for signs of loyalty and trust. Soon enough, I have alienated him from his family, something I had not meant to do, and he accepts me into his life completely.

Going back in time to before Dean was made Hellhound meat, I - wearing Jimmy - make a few stops and check in on him. Certainly, he must have changed after what he must have suffered in hell and so, by getting a look at his past, I could accurately gauge how much he'd changed. Or at least that what I told myself as I peek in on him during a fight with his brother, Sam. A rather pitiful sight, green eyes hard and lips set in a line except for when he spoke to his little brother on the phone. His eyes immediately softened, his voice- although still deep- was less heavy and less sad.

I find myself smiling at the sight of him beaming into the phone and then shaking his head to stop himself from apologizing. He wouldn't have apologized if he knew who Sam had been hanging around with at the time. Before I can warn him, revealing myself now instead of in the future, I am called away by a summoning spell.

My Grace is being pulled from my vessel, pulled by the attraction of the remaining Grace that Dean's skin contains. I try to resist, telling the psychic to retreat because seeing me, without my vessel in my _true_ form, might kill her. But she, in a snarky voice, replies that she didn't scare easily. My Grace continues to be pulled, revealing parts of me slowly until finally, asking to see my face, I let her see me fully. I look in on the room where Robert Singer, the Winchester's and the psychic are in, sitting around a circular table with candles.

When my face, my angel form, is revealed the candles flare up and the psychic screams as her eyeballs burn in their socket. Dean's panicked face and the woman's screaming, ending her chant, allow me to retreat back into Jimmy. Sighing at the destruction I have unfortunately caused.

* * *

I return in my human vessel and follow Sam and Dean as they enter a dinner that is full of demons. I sit back and watch as they interact with one another and then the demons that infest the establishment. I find myself disliking the demon in the body of a waitress as she speaks to Dean in a mocking voice.

"Dean. To hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck," the demon says, leaning forward on the table with her elbows supporting her head. "So you just stroll out of the pit, huh? Tell me. What makes you so special?"

"I like to think it's because of my perky nipples!" Dean replies with a wide grin but then admits at not knowing who or _what_ pulled him out. Its not for the lack of trying he seems to add with a look towards Sam.

"Mind your tone with me, boy. I'll drag you back to hell myself," The demon says darkly as I prepare to interfere but Dean leans forward, a challenge in his green eyes. He challenges her, making it clear that whoever, _whatever_, got him out wanted him out for a reason and would gladly come looking for her if he went back. He wasn't incorrect; I _would_ be back to have a chat with her later on. He then punches her twice, making the demon stir in her seat looking more nervous by the second. It is then that I decide to try harder next to contact him.

* * *

As night hits and the patrons of the diner leave, I walk inside. Still trying to adjust to this vessel, I make my way through the diner and kill the demons one by one. One touch of my palm against their foreheads and they are killed inside their 'meat suits', as they so passionately call them. I miss one, burning her slightly so that she can deliver a message to the rest of her kin: Dean Winchester is not to be messed with.

I leave, preparing to make contact with Dean once more, waiting until Sam sneaks out of their room and drives away in the Impala. I try again to appear before him as soon as Sam is far away. Dean is sleeping and as I make my decent making the television turn on, he is startled awake. By the time the mirror above him shatters and he is on the floor clutching his ears, I know that, once again, I've failed. This early on, having just gotten my vessel, I guess it would be a miracle that that would have worked at the diner.

But I get another chance a few hours later when, now fully embedded in my vessel, I let myself be pulled into the empty building. The building, both inside and out, is covered with demon repelling sigils and various charms spread about by Bobby Singer and Dean. But that won't cage me. The weapons on a table won't stop me from speaking with Dean and warning him about what is to come nor apologizing for the brand on his skin.

I slammed the doors open. They stand together, armed with shotguns full of salt rounds at the end of the warehouse. I walk as casually as I can even though Jimmy's heart was speeding up. The light bulb above me shatters and breaks as I pass under it, showering me in sparks of light. I approach, already prepared to heal myself before they even begin to shoot at me. Of course, they have no affect on me and so, as a final act of desperation, Dean grabs ahold of the demon killing knife.

"Who are you?" Dean asked, his hand gripping the knife, preparing to attack.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," I reply in a voice that is unfamiliar to me, that of my vessel.

"Yeah, thanks for that," he says before plunging the knife into my chest. I look down at it, feeling the cool metal slicing through my vessel's skin and, pulling it out, I drop it to the floor whilst repairing the damage it caused to this body. Bobby is next to attack. But I quickly overpower him and - touching two fingertips to his forehead - he collapses on the floor.

"We need to talk, Dean. Alone."

Dean rushes to check on the unconscious human all the while glaring at me. I flip through a ritual book that lies on the table, taking note of several errors and the lack of Enochian spells.

"Your friend is alive," I tell him after a moment.

"Who are you?" He asks getting up and looking at me. I am unsure of what he thinks I am, perhaps a demon.

"Castiel," I reply roughly. Jimmy's voice seems to be deepening as time progresses and I find myself preferring a deep baritone to his natural soft tone.

"Yeah, I figured that much, I mean_ what_ are you?"

"I'm an Angel of the Lord." I look at him, gauging his reaction and see his face tilt in disbelief.

"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing," he replies shaking his head. I hold in a sigh, walking to stand in the middle of the warehouse.

"That is your problem, Dean. You have no faith."

Without even thinking about it, I extend my wings behind me. Lightning flashes and my wings are shadowed in the background, stretching further than the distance between walls in the warehouse. When the lightning stops, so does the shadow of my wings. My hands clench at having just laid myself bare for a human who doesn't even believe.

"Some angel you are," he says after a moment, his eyes hard. "You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

"I warned her no to spy on my true form," I tell him, approaching him slowly. He doesn't back away, a good sign, but his body tenses slightly. "It can be... overwhelming to humans, so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking?" I nod and look down for misjudging the situation. I was too hasty to get in contact that I didn't stop and think of what could have happened. "Buddy, next time, lower the volume."

"That was my mistake," I reply. "Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought that you would be one of them. I was wrong."

He looks at my vessel from head to tow, my eyes following the movement of his eyes. His lips pull up in a smirk as her replies sarcastically, "and what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?"

I chuckle, looking down at my body. I smile to myself at having picked such a strong, mindful vessel. I look back at Dean, and say, "This? This is... a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?" he asks horrified.

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this."

I can see he doesn't believe I am speaking the truth by the way his eyes narrow as I move around him. His eyes snap to Bobby and then to me as if wondering what would he do were he in Dean's situation. Surely, Bobby would have fought a while longer. But soon, as we get down to the reason why I saved him, Dean's body relaxes as I reveal the truth.

"What's the matter?" I ask confused edging closer to him. My Grace lights up inside of me, pulling me towards him, towards the little bit of it that was left on Dean's skin. "You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

"Why'd you do it?" his eyes narrow at me, as I get closer.

"Because God commanded it," I say sternly. "Because we have work for you."

* * *

**Note**_**:** Okay so i was listening to Britney Spears' _Everytime_ and watching a youtube video of Cas looking at Dean with those SEX eyes and my mind just joined the two together. I was at a laundramat and I think I might have scared a few patrons by my excited squeeling as I began to jot this part down. There will be five Castiel pieces, from season four to season six, and two Dean pieces from season seven. Seven Seven broke my heart but there was so much angst! i might do Three Dean pieces instead of two but... no promises._

**Also,** _if anyone is interested i am looking for a beta._


	2. Chapter 2

**Title_: _**_Everytime_

**Beta:** None. All mistakes are my own.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Time:** S4:E20: The Rapture

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. The Dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke._

* * *

_"Everytime I try to fly I fall_

_Without my wings_

_I feel so small_

_I guess I need you baby..."_

* * *

I appear to him in a dream. Full of peace, brightness and happiness - it is the sort of dream I would have guessed is Sam's and not Dean's if I were not here watching him. The lake shines brightly and the clear water is reflecting the bright sun that is overhead. The trees shake from side to side as a light breeze blows, occasionally ruffling Dean's hair. He is sitting in a lawn chair, a cold beer in one hand, and a fishing line in the other.

I wait for a few moments, standing in the background and looking at the peaceful human, letting him relish in this fantasy a little while longer. The look on his face – so calm and relaxed – is like nothing I've ever seen. His full lips are not set in a line, his moss coloured eyes are not narrowed and the spot between his eyes, that is usually furrowed, is smooth. All in all, he is stress-free. It is safe to say that he is content and happy, which makes what I am about to do even more difficult.

I make myself visible off to his right side, standing by him looking out at his creation. It really is a peaceful place, almost as peaceful as Heaven. Or my heaven at least - in the favourite park of an autistic man flying a kite that drowned in his bathtub. I stand there for a few awkward moments, letting myself enjoy his company a moment longer. I can feel Zachariah searching for me along with the rest of my superiors. I feel them scratching away at the wards I made sure to place around Dean and his dream but I know, as powerful as they are, the wards won't last long against archangels.

"We need to talk," I say in way of greeting. Startled, Dean turns around in the chair, his eyes narrowing at me. I try not to sigh as the furrow between his green eyes returns.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" he asks sadly. But now is not the time to worry about his emotions. I have a task, a message that could get me in far deeper trouble than I want to imagine. A message that could, in the end, be saving the world instead of dooming it.

"It's not safe here," I tell him, looking around his dream. "Someplace more private."

"More private? Cas, we're inside my head."

"Exactly," I reply sharply. "Someone could be listening."

"What's wrong?" he asks, holding on to the sides of the chair as if preparing to stand up. I walk in front of him but my eyes glued the space behind him where a shadow is moving.

"Meet me here," I say, shoving a paper into his hand. I feel my grace being pulled from my vessel. Gruffly, I yell out, "Go now," as my grace is gripped and pulled away, ending the dream and making his peaceful world disappear.

* * *

I am in Heaven's prison. Collars and brands are thither to my body, pulling at the skin of my visage, which I've manifested even without my physical vessel. I'm strung up, tied and hung by rope from various poles that cover the ceiling and walls of my tormentor's cage. It strangely resembles that of Bobby Singer's panic room. The same stale smell of old whiskey, books laying around, bookmarked bibles spread open on the tables and a chart of omens taped to a cabinet.

I face the door, my eyes squinting; a slither of light comes from behind a small opening in the centre. The rest of the room is dark. I look up, noting that my captor had obviously never been to Bobby Singer's home or he would have known about the giant fan in the ceiling. But it is of no import as my captor opens the door.

The sound of shrieking metal as the door is slowly opened is enough to cause a small headache, and when the light from the outside completely enters the room, my head explodes in pain. I show no outward sign of this, however, keeping my face as blank as possible as an angel enters the room.

I try not to laugh as the angel, whom I now recognize as Balthazar, enters, closing the door behind him. I shake my head, disapproving of this practical joke. But I keep my mouth shut as my eyes lock on the silver angel blade in his left hand. He twirls it between his fingers, the light hitting the metal and shinning it in my face. I bite my lower lip as I wait for what is to come.

"Hello, brother," Balthazar says coming to stand in front of me in his cheery voice. "Long time no see."

I nod, my eyes glued to his left hand. He follows my gaze and gives a small 'ooh' before making the blade disappear and clapping his hands together in front of my face. I jump slightly, the noise of the clap biting at my ears and making my already huge headache into a larger one. Being inside a human vessel for so long has weakened my tolerance for certain things, pain being one of them.

"You sure are in a chatty mood today, Cassie," Balthazar comments. "I can _scarcely_ hear myself think with all your talking."

Remaining quiet, the only sure way I know to make him go away, I look straight ahead. I make a mental note to give Dean some angel proofing sigils just in case Balthazar gets bored again. Surely, this is what this is, a bored angel with nothing else to do but pick on his garrison comrade. We were friends; we fought side by side for countless of battles over countless of centuries. These jokes of his became a bother after a millennia or two.

"Oh, C'mon, Cassie!" he yells with a chuckle. "Stop your yapping! It's getting quite annoying, that deep grating voice of yours. Stop it!"

He laughs, bringing me to my boiling point. I cannot hold it in any longer. I wish to know why I was brought here, let to believe I was in danger and then strung up by angel sealing rope to a rafter. But he continues to speak, saying nonsense about me speaking when I am in fact _not _talking.

Waiting until Balthazar is in my line of sight; I say calmly, "I do not understand why I've been brought here."

He chuckles loudly, a hand coming up to clap me on the cheek. His bright green eyes stare at me from behind long thick eyelashes and I can't help but think about Dean. Where is he, right about now? Did he go to the location I specified? Did he find Jimmy?

"Cassie, stay with me." Balthazar runs a hand through my hair, startling me out of my thoughts. "Do you know why I am here, brother?"

"To torture me, I presume."

"You've presumed wrong," he replies walking away. His long strides take him to the other side of the room. He leans on the doorframe, snapping his fingers to bring me close, I am suddenly standing in front of him. "I'm here because I volunteered to be here."

I remain frozen in my place, terror spreads through my body as I look at his stern eyes. He _volunteered_ to torture me?

"You see," he begins, "our superiors have put out a memo. It said something about you getting too close to the human's, mainly Dean Winchester. Now, I've seen that hairless ape and, I have to say, he does have a nice ar-"

"I do not understand what he has to do with-"

"You've developed feelings for him," Balthazar says outright. He comes to my side, leaning down to whisper in my ear, "I can see it in your blue, blue eyes. Annnnd that's why I volunteered!"

He pulls back, a grin on his face. I look away, ashamed at my actions. The bond created by my Grace touching Dean's soul has led to the creation, if not shared, feelings between he and myself. But it doesn't mean I would act on it. Millions of years of training have taught me to keep restraints, limits, and to ignore such feelings. I am an Angel of the Lord and I will do my sworn duty, nothing more and nothing less.

"Nothing to say?" Balthazar asks with a wide grin. "Just the way I like 'em, quiet and broody!"

"What is it that you want, Balthazar?"

"I want to show you something," he replies cryptically. "I have gotten permission for this, of course, and I assure you it shall be fun!"

The world around me goes to black as he presses two fingers against my forehead. Before I know it, I am out of the angel binding chains and in a park. Balthazar is at my side, quirking an eyebrow at me suggestively and pointing with his hand to the sight in front of me. I understand what is happening now as I see Dean, sitting in a park bench talking to me. Well, the Castiel from his present and my future - three months or so ahead of me.

We've time travelled to this point for a reason. Balthazar is of no help as he plops down on the grass and, stretching out his long legs, watches as I – future me - and future Dean speak.

"This is where it begins," Balthazar whispers softly. "Listen."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**_**: **Everytime_

**Beta:** None. All mistakes are my own.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Time:** S4: E7: Its the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester, S5:E3: Free To Be You and Me, S4:E20: The Rapture

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. The Dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke._

**Note: **_I didn't realize until revision that the episode _The Rapture_ happened before the scenes in _It's the great pumpkin, Sam Winchester_ (Stupid me!). So pretend it Castiel gets ripped from his vessel before Samhain is released and the seal is broken. Sorry about that! Also, I apologize if it's a little confusing. Italiziced means its the future (I.E. Castiel and Balthazar are watching) and _not italicized _means its the present. _

* * *

"_And everytime I see_

_You're in my dreams_

_I see your face_

_Its haunting me_

_I guess I need you baby..."_

* * *

_ Dean is sitting on a park bench watching kids runs around in the green grass. Samhain is gone and this town is safe, the angels were cooled down and were not going to destroy the entire town for one giant attention whore of a monster. The seal was broken but Samhain was back in hell and the dicks with wings didn't obliterate the town. All in all, it was a job well done._

_Even without looking, Dean can feel Castiel appear next to him. Immediately, and without thinking, his body turns to the angel who is gazing intently at him. Dean has learned to love those deep blue eyes and the way they stare at him, unblinking and all knowing. Dean continues to look out at the kids, wondering if one day one of those pesky midges running around might call him daddy._

_He sighs and, still avoiding the angel's gaze, says, "Let me guess you're here for the, I told you so."_

_Castiel's gravelly voice has always sent chills down his spine even as he replies with a simple, "No."_

_"Well, good 'cause I'm really not that interested," Dean says finally looking at Castiel. _

_The angel, with his large trench coat and straight as an arrow back, looks even more uncomfortable than usual. The sun shines, illuminating his frame and making Dean truly, and without a doubt, believe that the man really is an angel. The way the rays of sun morph around his body, framing it and making him look out worldly is just... beautiful. _

_Castiel looks at Dean, his large blue eyes so vulnerable, so different from the rest of him that it makes Dean falter slightly. He turns, ready to go and sit by the angel at any given moment but stops as he is answered in a softer, less Castiel-like tone._

_"I am not here to judge you, Dean." The angel's voice is soft and a sigh escapes those chapped lips that Dean has always wondered what they would feel like against his. But he shakes his head; turning away from the angel before his downstairs brain can take hold._

_"Then why are you here?" Dean asks slightly confused._

_"Our orders-"_

_"Yeah, you know, I've had about enough of these orders of yours-"_

_"Our orders," Castiel begins again, "were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever _you_ told us to do."_

* * *

Balthazar pokes me in the ribs with his elbow, pushing a bag of popcorn at me. I take it; more to have my hands do something than out of hunger. My brother points at my future self and Dean as future "we" continue to converse, clearing his mouth before standing.

"I think, yes, this is my favourite part," Balthazar says taking the popcorn from me. I stand, tilting my head at the scene in front of us.

"Why is that? It seems like any normal-"

"Let's take a closer look, shall we?"

* * *

_"You misunderstand me, Dean. I'm not like you think," Castiel says, his voice on the verge of cracking. He feels his mouth dry as he looks out at the scene before him - the scene that almost didn't happen. "I was praying that you would choose to save the town."_

_"You were?" Dean turns to Castiel fully, his green eyes connecting to the angels blue orbs. _

_Castiel had, in the few months that he'd known Dean, begun to be able to read the man like an open book. From that first meeting to right now sitting on this park bench, Castiel could practically hear Dean's thoughts and feel his emotions. Something to do with the mark, he supposed._

_"__These people, they're all my father's creations," he began to explain. "They're works of art, and yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to hell on earth, for all creation. Now that's not an expression Dean, its literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means."_

_Dean looks at him, green eyes wide with sadness. He feels the human feel something close to remorse at having said those awful things to him back at the hotel. But Castiel had forgiven him the moment the words had left the hunter's mouth._

_"Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?" Castiel asks Dean, eyes downcast._

_"Okay," Dean replies softly._

_"I'm not a...hammer as you say, I have questions, I have doubts. I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make, I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don't."_

_They look at one another, blue eyes full of questions and green eyes wide with pain. They share a look that, under normal circumstances, Dean would have broken after a second or two. Only this time, under the bright sun and the light breeze in the air, the look goes on until a sound from the playground draws both their attentions. It is then that Castiel takes his leave, leaving Dean to look back at the bench where the angel was sitting just seconds ago with a look of longing and pain._

* * *

"I do not understand-" I say looking to my brother Balthazar who is dabbing the corners of his eyes with the ends of his shirt. "Are you crying, Balthazar?"

"You two are my favorite couple," my brother replies, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I don't have to look to know that we are at another location. We are now on an abandoned house, almost a year from my current time. Dean is pacing around the front room, his father's journal in his hand. My future self appears with a jar of holy oil.

I hear very little of their conversation because Balthazar is whispering into my ear, "Now this one is really fun. Had my laugh when I first saw this one." I eye him unconvinced. "Really, trust me, brother. Just watch."

* * *

_"So the odds are you're a dead man tomorrow," Dean says as realization hits. By tomorrow Raphael will be trapped, hopefully, and the world will be safe for another day. But even someone as optimistically grim as Dean can't help but feel sorry for the angel that stands in front of him._

_"Yes," Castiel replies taking a seat._

_"Well," Dean says with a smile. "Last night on earth, huh? What are your plans?"_

_Castiel looks straight ahead as he replies, "I just thought I'd sit here quietly."_

_"Come on, anything?" Dean asks with a chuckle. "Booze, women?" Castiel looks down, obviously uncomfortable. Dean knows a virgin when he sees one but he can't help but ask, "You have been with women before. Right? Or an angel at least?"_

_Castiel rubs the back of his neck nervously._

_"You mean to tell me," Dean says trying to hold in the grin he feels pulling at his lips, "you've never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?"_

_"I've never had the occasion, okay?" Castiel replies sharply, his voice dipping to a tone that told Dean to back off. But Dean, feeling an uncomfortable tug in his chest, grabs his jacket._

_"Let me tell you something. There are two things I know for certain," he tells the angel with a nod, "One, Bert and Ernie are gay." He looks at Castiel as if waiting for a laugh, a chuckle or anything but the angel looks at him deadpan and confused. _

_"Two," Dean continues getting his car keys and heading for the door. "You are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let's go."_

_He leaves without another word. Castiel stares after him, unsure of what to do. He looks around for a moment before getting up and following the hunter to whatever he was planning._

_Castiel is horrified as they approach the brothel. Dean has a smile on his face, and exiting out of the car with a spring in his step that tells Castiel that he has been here before. The angel follows, unsure if he should be entering such a place of sin._

_He follows the hunter to a table, right in the center of the bar. Dean orders beers, his eyes never leaving the young woman's breast as she takes their order. When the beers arrive, Castiel looks at Dean terrified while he takes a drink._

_"Hey. Relax," the hunter says putting the cup to his lips again and taking another sip._

_"This is a den of iniquity," Castiel whispers terrified, looking around him with fright. "I should not be here."_

_"Dude, you full-on rebelled against heaven," Dean says, his hand reaching out towards the angel but stopping just short of touch. Castiel tries not to let his eyes linger on the hunter's hand as it pulls back. "Iniquity is one of the perks."_

_A hooker approaches them with a sly smile on her face. She calls herself Chastity, a name that seemed to make Dean's eyes light up with amusement. After a threat from the hunter, two thin arms belonging to the woman pull up Castiel. _

_As he passes Dean, the hunter pulls Castiel towards him. He is about to sigh in relief thinking Dean has had enough of this and is ready to return home when he is handed a handful of cash and a few words of advice. Castiel has no choice but to follow the blonde woman to the back, as Dean makes no objections. Castiel's eyes stare at Dean's back for as long as he can before a door is closed and all he sees is the woman in front of him._

* * *

"I would never go to a den of iniquity," I tell Balthazar with a glare. "Much less participate in such a ritual. And what was that about rebelling? I have not rebelled, why would I rebel against heaven?"

"This is future you, Cassie." Balthazar wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer to him as he whispers, "it is yet to happen but one day will. This is your future, whether you like it or not."

I remain silent, my eyes locked on Dean and the way the hunter's gaze lingers on the door where my future self was led. Even with a woman on his arm, Dean still worries about me. Strange.

"I think we will skip the next scene and just go to the delicious part, that alright with you?" Balthazar asks with a laugh. "Like you have a choice! Brace yourself, this is your last trip and it will be a particularly sweet one."

* * *

_"What's so funny?" Castiel asks Dean who is almost out of breath from laughing so hard. How is being chased out a brothel funny?_

_"Oh, nothing. Whoo!" Dean exclaims as they walk to the Impala. He pauses, his eyes lighting up with unbelievable joy that makes Castiel almost crack a smile._

_"It's been a long time since I've laughed that hard," the hunter continues looking more at his car than Castiel. "It's been more than a long time. Years."_

_When Dean's face falls as realizes what he just said, Castiel walks around the Impala and goes to his side. He stands there awkwardly, not sure what action would be best. Perhaps a hug or a comment that would make Dean feel better?_

_"What's the matter, Dean?" Castiel asks softly. "One moment you are jovial and the next you're-"_

_"Leave it," Dean interrupts gruffly turning away from the angel. Castiel moves with him, appearing inside the Impala when Dean gets inside the car. "It's nothing."_

_"It is not nothing," Castiel insists, putting his hand over Dean's on the steering wheel. Dean pulls away, roughtly, but not before Castiel can feel his hands shake. "Tell me what is wrong, Dean."_

_"No," the hunter says adamantly, putting his keys in the ignition and driving._

_The silence that stills over them as they make their way back to the abandoned house is nerve wrecking. By the time the car is parked and they make their way inside, Dean is itching to speak to Castiel. But the angel, oblivious as always, returns to the seat he previously inhabited and stares at the opposite wall. _

_Dean gives him a brief glance and sighs loudly, hoping to catch the angel's attention. When their eyes connect, there is a brief moment of something that passes between them. Dean knows what the tingly feeling in his stomach is, the shiver that's running up his spine and his dry mouth, but he refuses to acknowledge it. _

_"So," Dean says biting his lip, "what's up?"_

_Deadpan, Castiel replies, "the ceiling."_

_Rolling his eyes, Dean stands up to pace. This might be the last time they will be in the same room. In most likelihood, it would be the last day in which he would look into the angel's blue eyes. He stopped pacing, stopping right in front of Castiel. The angel looks up at him, tilting his head in that adorable way which said he was confused._

_"Yes?" Castiel asks. _

_"I've been thinking," Dean began, "you've never been with a woman which means you've _never_ been kissed, right?" He looked at the angel who nods his head while avoiding his eyes. "Well, I think I have a way to remedy that."_

* * *

Balthazar bursts into a fit of laughter, holding on to me for support as the scene changes. I am confused yet curious as to what future Dean's remedy is. When the door to the room we inhabit slams open and two figures enter, locked in a passionate kiss, I let out a shaky breath. This was my future?

* * *

_Dean pulls at Castiel's trench coat, desperate to feel some sort of contact with the angel apart from the breath-taking kiss they are sharing. Dean pulls apart long enough to push Cas on the bed and go on top of him. He cups Castiel's cheeks, tilting his head back and trying his best to calm the horny beast that has suddenly taken over the angel._

_Castiel pulls back, removing his coat and jacket, his fingers working on the buttons of his shirt. Dean does the same and the angel falters as he removes his shirt, throwing it aside. Castiel has never seen Dean half naked before and the hunter's well-toned body leaves him speechless. Dean notices the angel's lingering stare and, pulling his hands from undoing his pants, he reaches out and pushes Castiel's chin gently until their eyes meet. Cas stares at Dean with lust-filled eyes making the human feel like he's drowning in their blue abyss. _

_Castiel takes the initiative, spirited on by Dean's soft, loving eyes and pulls him into a kiss while touching the hunter's chiseled chest. Dean pulls his shirt off, touching Castiel. His fingers tease Castiel's nipples, finding a more on his right nub. He pulls back, a smile pulling the sides of his lips, and says, "Very sexy mole you've got there."_

_Cas blushes, pulling Dean into a kiss while his fast hands try to remove his belt. Dean pushes away his hands and does it himself, pulling off his confining pants. Cas takes a moment, pulling away and looks down at Dean all flushed and leaking through the human's white underwear._

_His eyes snap to Deans and he says, his voice wavering a bit, "That's going to go inside of me?"_

_ With a growl, Dean pulls Cas pants off and begins to kiss his neck while his hands explore Cas' body. When they reach Cas' belly, he pauses. __He looks at the angel, panting under him with a small smile on his full lips. "Are you sure you want this?" he asks hoping to hear a yes come from those lips._

_When the reply is a gravely, "Yes," Dean leans down and wraps his lips around Cas' nipples, making the angel moan out as his hand finds Cas already hard and waiting. Cas' hands are at his side, unsure of where he is supposed to have them, his long fingers curling into the hard bed as Dean's lips move to his other nipple. Twirling his tongue around the nub and sucking softly before taking it between his teeth and pulling, Dean's hands stroke Cas' base in a slow rhythm. _

_"Please." Cas moans out __pulling apart with a sigh__. "Please," he begs, his voice as rough as sand paper.__ His blue eyes were full blown from lust but also with fear. Dean, as softly as he can, pulls himself up on his hands and kisses the angel's lips._

* * *

I turn away as Dean begins to kiss along my future self's neck and down my chest with such a need that, would I be in my vessel, the simple act would have me blushing. Balthazar turns me back around and the scene is over. The couple is laying in each other's arms, Dean is holding on to me by the waist, his head on my chest. I continue to blush, more out of being uncomfortable than shame. Balthazar puts a finger to his lips and points to the scene in front of us. I tilt my head confused. Hadn't he said this was our last trip? Why are we still here? But then I see why.

My future-self tries to move away from Dean, accidentally touching him in his pectorals, making him snap his eyes open. The hunter sits up in the small bed, his eyes wide in alert. He looks around the room, slowly taking in his surroundings until his eyes land on me – my future-self.

"Good morning, Dean," I – he – says with a wide smile that wrinkles the corners of our eyes. "I apologize for having woken you up."

Dean stares at me – him – confused. He whispers out, "C-Cas?" as if no confirm that it is indeed I who is lying on the bed next to him, naked and spent.

"Yes, Dean." My future self pulls himself up on the bed, the covers revealing more out our – his – body, leaving Dean to trace each curve of muscle with his large green eyes.

When Dean gets out of bed, leaving him standing naked in front of Balthazar and both versions of myself, I feel something in sink in the pit of my stomach. My heart stops beating, were it functional that is, and I feel my extremities numb as Dean stares at my future-self.

"What I tell you?" Balthazar says cupping his hands near Dean's posterior. I feel the urge to bat his hands away from Dean but I cannot move. "This hunter of yours has a very nice arse."

"W-what are you doing?" Dean asks, his voice faltering slightly. He coughs and finally realizes that he is standing naked. He gets the closes article of clothing he can reach, which is my discarded trench coat, and covers himself.

"What do you mean, Dean?" my future-self asks, tilting his head. "I am laying on this bed while you sleep off our activities from last night. Is that not the procedure?"

"Activities?" Dean repeats softly. His eyes snap to both their naked bodies and then back to my future-self's face. "We had sex, didn't we?" My future-self nods once and attempts to get out of bed but Dean puts out a hand and commands him to dress. In the blink of an eye, he is standing in front of Dean fully clothed and with his head tilted.

I feel my heart plummet as Dean begins to speak. Already I know what is going to come out of his mouth, he's done it enough time to women he sleeps with and never calls back.

"Look, Cas," he begins, rubbing the back of his head, "this was a mistake. We were drunk and –"

"Let us leave," I say to Balthazar, turning away from the scene. I take a deep breath as my brother puts his hand on my shoulder and we are back at our original location. I remain where I am, too shocked and hurt to do or say anything. Balthazar as now seen, what I can only guess, is the height of my downfall.

"Cassie, this was just... I wanted you to see the path you were leading," Balthazar tells me from behind. He leans in and adds in a whisper, "This was not what they wanted me to show you, brother. Be thankful I didn't show you the really awful parts."

What could be more awful than having my heart broken by the only human who ever 'got' me; the only living creature that I share a bond with? I sigh and turn to Balthazar.

"Thank you, brother, I see now the path that I lead was incorrect." I am clapped on the back by Balthazar and pulled into a hug. I feel my wings being released, my Grace returning to me and I hear the calls of Jimmy. I hear Dean's pleads as well but, after all I've seen, they are lower on my priorities list.

As I pull away, Balthazar whispers, "you cannot change your destiny, brother. What I've shown you will happen no matter what. But only you can change the outcome of our deaths."

He presses his hand on my forehead and images pour into me. By the time the images pass, all blurry and fragmented, Balthazar is gone and I am free. I gasp for air, feeling tears run down my face. So much pain... too much pain and all in the name of humanity.

* * *

I take the over Jimmy's daughter, her simple pleas to help her father and her permission are enough to let me take her on as my vessel. It feels weird, being in such a small human but all is forgotten as I pull myself from the confines of the ropes. A demon tries to hit me with a pipe but I am quick to grab it and kill him with my touch.

"Castiel..." I hear Jimmy whisper from somewhere in the warehouse. My eyes are drawn to Dean who is battling a demon, completely ignoring Sam who is drinking a demon's blood.

As I smite the demon, nodding once to Dean, I look at Sam who is still drinking the blood of his kill, knowing full well that Dean will follow my gaze. When Sam stands, he exorcises Amelia, Jimmy's wife, without hurting her like I would have. Dean rushes to her side while I go to Jimmy who is on the floor bleeding from a gunshot wound.

"Of course we keep our promises," I tell him, "Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well, your work is done. It's time to go home now. Your real home. You'll rest forever in the firlds of the lord. Rest now, Jimmy."

But Jimmy shakes his head adamantly. "No. Claire?"

"She is with me now. She's chosen. It is in her blood, as it was in yours."

He begs me to take him, to leave his daughter and take him. I take it as his dying wish and, as a gift of my gratitude to him, I accept.

"I wanna make sure you understand. You won't die or age. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred, a thousand more like it," I explain.

Dean, Sam and Jimmy's wife approach from behind and stop a few feet away as they realize who I am. I feel Dean's mark reaching out towards me. My body instinctively turns slightly to him as much as I try not to.

"It doesn't matter," Jimmy manages to say, his hand grasping at his bleeding chest. "Just take me. Just t-take m-me."

I stare down at the brave human, having given himself over to me completely and nod. "Yes, you have done very well, much more than I have ever asked of you. I will grant you this wish."

I touch his forehead, a bright light signaling my leaving Claire's body for my old vessel, Jimmy. Claire drops down on all four's as I leave her and I, back in Jimmy, stand up. I walk past Amelia, avoiding her wide eyes as she runs to Claire, embracing her, all the while staring at me. I stand by the Winchester's, giving them each a nod. I look back to Amelia one last time before turning away.

"Cas, hold up!" Dean calls out, grabbing my arm and turning me. I look at him, pulling my arm away. "What were you going to tell me?"

"I learnt my lesson while I was away, Dean," I say as the images of our coupling replay in my mind. "I serve heaven, I do not serve man, and I certainly don't serve you."

I walk away without as much as another look. I feel Dean's eyes on me as I do so, and it only makes me want to run away faster. I know what I must do now and whatever I may feel towards the hunter is not going to get in my way.

* * *

**Working on part four now. But I think I'll write the next two chapters together and post all in one day, how does that sound? Will take longer to upload but there will be more content and longer chapters. Tell me what you think by leaving me a review :) Thanks for all who read, followed and put this story in their favourites! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**_**: **__Everytime_

**Beta:** None. All mistakes are my own.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Time:** S6:E20: The Man Who Would Be King

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. Some dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke._

_**Note: **_Pretty long, sorry about that. This is Chapter four, part one. I will upload every Friday after a new episode of Supernatural as aired just in case I add more parts to this later on.

* * *

_"I make-believe_

_That you are here_..._"_

* * *

Destinies are funny little complicated things. Some, like that of the Winchester's, can be avoided and even re-written. But others, like my own, are a fixed point in time that cannot be changed no matter how hard you try. That is how I ended up in Dean's bed nearly two years ago. It is how I ended up falling and killing hundreds of my kin. Destiny is how I ended up working with a slimy snot nosed demon. And not just any demon, no; destiny had to pair me up with the King of Hell as Crowley calls himself.

Except, the thing about destinies is that, no matter how much of your future you know, they will always surprise you. And I guess, no matter how much I tried to outrun it, my destiny is to die trying to save the world, trying to save Dean.

I've been here for a long time. I've seen many things, most of which are now irrelevant. _One_ of my most precious memories, however, came when my brothers and I were at a shoreline and a little grey fish heaved itself up on the beach. I remember my older brothers saying, "don't step on that fish, Castiel. Big plans for that fish." My immediate thought was wow. How can something so menial be regarded in such high esteem. But now I understand, for that fish gave way to what is now the most dominant creature - apart from us, that is - on the planet.

But the _most_ precious, even if Dean cannot talk about it, is lying on the bed next to him. My head on his pale chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as if my life revolved around it, my hand on his waist, my fingers touching the soft hairs trailing down from his navel, and my Grace soaring from the connection to Dean's soul. I remember lying in bed thinking that, no matter what happened, I would always have this moment with me. It was all shattered a moment later when I tried to move away and Dean woke up, hung-over and confused. I was forced, out of my own selfish need to stop those green eyes from looking at me with such disgust, to flee thus ending our night together. Dean would never talk about it after that and I sensed he became uncomfortable around me.

I remember the most remarkable event – remarkable because it never came to pass. Two boys, an old drunk and a fallen angel averted it. The grand story. And we ripped up the ending and the rules... and destiny... leaving nothing but freedom and choice. Yet, I doubt that we truly, and irrevocably, changed everything. What if this was our destiny? What if we were meant to do this all along?

What if all roads lead to the same destination? It would mean I was destined to side with Crowley as I was destined to fall and slay my brethren. It would mean that I was meant to become infatuated with Dean Winchester only to be rejected. It would mean that I was meant to be here, standing in my heaven on an eternal Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who drowned in a bathtub in 1953, thinking that things could only get worse from here on out.

If all roads do indeed lead to the same place then I was destined to do all these things and _more_. The thought alone sends shivers down my spine. Had I not done enough damage already? Was I _destined_ to do more?

* * *

Since the night our coupling, I have been able to find Dean without having to call using a cell phone. And so, I located him driving along some highway and appear next to him. I remain clocked for a moment, studying him briefly noting how tight his jaw is and how his fingers keep pulling at his hair. He is tense, scared and perhaps even worried but why?

He turns to where I am seated; his eyes bore into mine even though he cannot possibly see me. Perhaps he feels my Grace calling out to his soul and feels my presence near him. Before he can begin to suspect, I make myself visible and offer a greeting.

"Hello, Dean," I say, trying not to smile as his eyes soften at my arrival. His jaw is still locked but he lets out a soft sigh that appeases me for the moment. He continues to drive, his knuckles turning white from the hold he has on the steering wheel. "Are you all right?

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine," he replies, unsure. He looks at me for a moment, his eyes raking over my still body. "How are you?"

"Just wanted to check in," I tell him, unsure how long we can sustain this uncomfortable conversation.

He asks if I've made progress in my search for Crowley and, as horrible as I feel for it, I lie. I lie to Dean Winchester and I know he knows it's a lie the moment the words leave my lips. I ask if _he's_ made any progress, trying to keep my worry out of my voice and failing. Dean looks at me from the corner of his eye, curious but willing to let it go.

I know then that he will always stand up for me. He will never doubt me and no matter how much evidence is presented, he will always be by my side. It saddens me to think that I've betrayed and lied to him. But I am doing this for him, everything I've done has _always_ been for him and, I think deep down, he knows this and feels he owes me something.

"Where's Sam?" I ask after a moment. I can't find Sam thanks to the carvings on his ribs and I do not have a bond with his soul, which means I have to rely on other means to locate him. Asking his big brother is one of them. I know the moment he speaks that he is lying but I let it go like he let go my earlier lie.

"In fact," Dean is saying, "I'm heading out there right now to meet up with him." He bites his lower lip, hoping he's told a good enough lie to fool me. But I've known him for far too long and I know his tells.

"Well," I tell him in a voice similar to his, "I'd come if I could."

"Yeah, no, I-I get it," he replies shaking his head. It is another tense moment before he turns to me, green eyes as soft as that night we shared. "But, Cas, you'll call, right? If you get into real trouble?"

I know it is his way of asking if I'd come to him above anyone else. I would, I truly would but not this time. I nod and take my leave. But before I can spread my wings and fly to Crowley who is expecting me, I hear Dean calling out for me. Try as I might, I simply cannot ignore his prayers and, before my brain can even protest, I am standing next to Dean.

He's parked the Impala on the side of the road overlooking a beautiful lake. The moon reflects off the crisp, clean water and the fresh air is a change from the usual carbon dioxide infected air of the city. He's leaning against the hood, his long legs outstretched in front of him. He looks out at the lake as I appear, turning his body only slightly as I do.

I stand as close as possible without offending his 'personal space' rule that he was so adamant about only to have him slide near me. I don't know what to do as he turns to me, eyes clouded with tears and lower lip trembling slightly. I remain still, our eyes connecting and my Grace begging for contact. Slowly, I raise my hand and catch a tear as it falls from his green eyes. I wipe it away with the pad of my thumb, my fingers lingering on his face. He doesn't mind and, taking everything in stride, I lean into him. I place a chaste kiss on his forehead, a simple gesture meant to show him I was letting him set the pace. I do not want anything from him that he is not ready to give.

Pulling back, I lean on the Impala and look out at the lake. It truly is beautiful and peaceful, almost as peaceful as my slice of heaven. Perhaps I will return here later to try to sort my feelings out.

In the meanwhile, I feel Dean move beside me. He moves in front of me, his eyes still riddled with unshed tears. My hands move on their own as they cradle his soft cheeks.

A smile plays on my lips as he leans down and whispers, "I will never forget that night we spent together." Nothing short of a miracle can keep his insistent lips from crashing against mine. His hands pull my body closer to his simultaneously crushing me against the Impala with his hips. I feel his body's reaction towards to this new intimate contact and relish in it.

My hands, almost instinctively, reach down to slide his green jacket off his shoulders. He pulls apart before his jacket reaches the floor, his hands on each side of my face. Our eyes connect, I feel myself be pull in by the lust that fill those green eyes. I reach out for him, wanting – no, _needing – _to feel him against me. He doesn't protest, instead he leads me to the back of the Impala, sloppily opening the door and all but throwing me on the backseat.

* * *

Afterwards, as I make my way to Crowley's laboratory, I feel a sharp pain in my stomach. I know it is the feel of betrayal and sadness all rolled into one but I manage to bury it deep down within me as I walk through the swinging doors of the lab. Music pours out of the room, setting the tone to be quite jovial as opposed to grim experiments that happen within the four walls. Crowley looks up briefly as I enter, his focus solely on Eve's brain. The mother of all was no more, now she was just like any other demon in Crowley's pit of hell. I briefly look towards the shackled vampire nearby but I take no pity in knowing that it was one day human.

"Howdy, partner." Crowley nods in my direction, pulling himself away from the dead body on the table. He takes his gloves off, putting down his surgical tools to look at me.

"What have you found?" I ask walking towards the demon slowly. He puts on his gloves, sighing in annoyance and digs his hand into Eve's stomach.

"I've found a lot of things," he says reaching in further, extraction a handful of eggs. "For some reason... she keeps laying eggs."

He goes on to demonstrate what a effects a poker to Eve's brain has on the vampire nearby. I am not as amused as Crowley is as the vampire seizes violently, his sharp screams resonating off the dirty walls. But none of this is relevant to our cause. Eve is dead and it was something the demon won't stop reminding me off, and therefore cannot help with opening the door to Purgatory.

"I'm holding up my end of the deal," I tell him sharply, trying to end any further fighting. I am not prepared for his response.

"Ah yes," he replies, leaning into me. "But is that all you're holding? See... the stench of that Impala's all over your overcoat, Angel."

Crowley might have had a point when, later on in our fight he said I might have a conflict of interest. My interest was conflicted; my very being was conflicted when it came to Dean Winchester. I still consider myself his guardian and more. They taught me to stand up for myself, to be human and sacrifice for what you believe. They taught me everything and made me who I am today. Dean Winchester showed me that love could be both beautiful and complicated. He showed me that there is more to life than being alive. He showed me what it meant to be free, happy and part of something bigger than myself. I owe Dean everything and it was why I went to Harrow Hell to free Sam from Lucifer's cage. I obviously didn't raise all of him but the mere look on Dean's face when he saw his little brother was enough. I didn't need a thank you; just the twinkle that returned to his green eyes was enough.

"Just kill the Winchesters," Crowley ends a speech I hadn't been paying attention to. My attention was completely diverted away from the short, smart mouthed demon in front of me to the events that transpired in the back of the Impala.

"No," I reply with a growl. Crowley moves away from me, his eyes narrowing. I stare at him, daring him to make against me.

"I'll do it myself," he says after a second.

"I'll just bring them back if you do."

"No," Crowley says, "you won't. Not where I'll put 'em. Trust me, you won't even find your boy-toys body to play with."

My eyes snap to his dark, cold ones. I know how serious he is at the moment and yet, even if the thought of breaking our deal off comes to mind, I cannot get the words out. I am doing this for Dean, I remind myself, for Dean.

"No," I reply after a moment, "don't worry about them. Find Purgatory and I'll make sure the brother's don't find you."

It satisfies him for the moment but it gives me a glimpse into who I have joined forces with. Somewhere inside of me, I know that, although it seemed like a good idea at the time, working with Crowley is a mistake. A mistake I cannot possible rectify now, it was too late to back down.

I leave the lab without further confrontation, flying out to find Dean. I fly to Bobby Singer's place knowing that, even if Dean said he was going to catch up with Sam, Dean was here. I appear just as he arrives in the run down home, and follow him as he makes his way inside.

When he closes the inner door, I check my visibility by appearing in front of him as he puts his bags down. There is yelling coming from the living room, which takes Dean's attention immediately. There is a brief moment when he seems to be looking right at me, green eyes narrowed in confusion. But then I realize that he is checking the rooms behind me, making sure everything was clear. Dean makes his way into the living room where Bobby and Sam are interrogating a demon. I think to myself, wouldn't the panic room in the cellar be a better idea?

Dean motions for his brother and they go into the kitchen together. Rubbing his forehead and biting his lip, Dean tells his brother what happened.

"Cas came to see me," he says, "we had a chat on the road." Dean avoids his brother's eye contact.

When he turns, revealing a bruise on his neck, Sam turns from worried to unconvinced and gives – what Dean has come to call his 'bitch' face. Eyes narrowed, Sam replies, "is that all you did? Chat?"

"What? Ye-" Sam points to Dean's neck, challenging him to lie again. Dean clears his throat. "Okay, fine. It was more than a chat but c'mon! This whole thing is absurd! Do you really think that sweet o' innocent Cas is working for the King of hell. He's not Two-Face!"

"If he's not working for Crowley, okay fine," Sam replies sharply, "I'll apologize. In the meantime, we have to entertain the-"

"I love him," Dean whispers, cutting off his brother who stares at him in surprise. Behind Sam, Bobby stabs the demon in the leg with their demon-killing knife. Dean sees Bobby moving towards them and whispers, "relax."

"What's the hubbub?" the older hunter asks. There is a tense moment between the brothers, which I'm sure Bobby notices, but choses to ignore.

"I saw Cas," Dean says finally. "He popped in on me about two hours back. I didn't tell him anything."

"You sure? Nothing?"

Looking right at Sam, Dean replies, "Nothing, all right? Told him we were on some crap monster hunt. He doesn't know that we're getting close to C-" Dean stops, his head turning to his left where I am standing. Our eyes connect, whether he knows this or not I cannot say. He shakes his head and continues, "Crowley. You know he's our friend... and we are lying to him through our teeth."

A fight in whispers issues with Dean defending me the entire way. Bobby leaves after a joke from Dean about someone named Louis Lane, returning to the screaming demon with the demon blade in his leg. The brothers look at one another for another moment until Sam shakes his head and leaves to join Bobby. Dean follows him out, his eyes connecting with mine for third time.

It seems they suspect my true intentions. That is not the hard part for they would figure it out sometime. No, the worst part was Dean, trying so hard to be loyal, with every instinct telling him otherwise. I feel a sense of déjà vu as I look at Dean. Once, a very long time ago, I did the same for Dean. I rebelled against heaven. I practically waged war against all of the hosts in heaven all for one 'mud-monkey' as Uriel called humans. It was almost poetic in that sense.

I leave before I can listen to anything the demon says. If it was destined for them to find out who Ellsworth is, then who am I to interfere? I return to my slice of heaven, sitting down on the green grass watching the autistic man fly his kite with joy on his face. I lay back a moment later, my eyes closing recalling a memory that makes everything I'm feeling worth it.

* * *

_Dean was screaming his name in agony and that is all Castiel heard as he dropped everything he was doing and rushed to his side. Dean was more important than some angel wreaking havoc in Heaven. With more urgency than needed, Castiel flew to the crappy motel where Dean, unconscious on a bed, continued to murmur out the angel's name. Confused and slightly curious, Castiel nearer the sleeping human, his face tilted to the side. Something was off about Dean... Castiel couldn't pin point it but something was defiantly off about him._

_Castiel stood back, sitting down on the opposite bed from the hunter and waiting. It took nearly twenty minutes of uncontrollable name calling (mostly Castiel's) and head turning in agony before Castiel stood up and touched Dean's forehead with two fingers, snapping the hunter out of his nightmare. Dean got up from bed faster than Castiel had ever seen – his eyes roaming the room and landing on the angel who stared at him._

_There was a brief moment of silence before Dean threw himself back on the bed and groaned. Castiel was about to ask if he was in pain when Dean sat up, yawning into his hands and then rubbing his face with them. His moss coloured eyes peered at Castiel from behind his fingers. Castiel stared back with as much amusement as curiosity. It was strange to see Dean so... vulnerable (even if it was during sleep)._

_"Is everything okay?" Castiel asked, head tilted to the side, studying Dean's reaction and loving how his eyes followed his every moment. Briefly, those green eyes landed on the angel's lips, giving the hunter a slight blush before he coughed and stood up, moving away._

_" 'm fine," Dean replied, voice stiff and detached. "What are you doing here, Cas? Isn't it a bit early to be checking up on me?"_

_"You called out for me," Castiel replied. Dean stopped walking, turning halfway back to where Castiel was. He saw the human blink a few times before shaking his head and going into the bathroom._

_The door slammed shut behind Dean and, for the first time, Castiel wondered if his having come down had been a bad idea. He stood, preparing to take flight and leave Dean to his thoughts when the door opened. Dean stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless and with a towel wrapped around his torso. Castiel hadn't noticed how much time had elapsed since they'd spoken - Enough time, apparently, to have let Dean shower._

_"I've been having these dreams," the hunter said moving towards Castiel with an unshakable stare. "I don't know what they mean but they began around the time we –" Dean looked down then, his eyes falling to the floor as if it held all the answers in the world._

_There was a still moment before Dean looked back up at Castiel. Without a second thought, Castiel supplied, "Around the time we slept together?"_

_Dean nodded._

_Genuinely interested, Castiel stared at Dean waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, Castiel took matters into his own hands. He touched two fingertips to Dean's forehead, enjoying the warmth that the contact gave and almost riveting back when the images flooded into his head._

_Dean's dreams were ... pornographic to say the least. They were downright sinful and perhaps that was why he couldn't voice them out loud to the angel. Carefully and almost painfully slow, Castiel pulled back his fingers and stared anywhere but Dean._

_"Do you wish for me to make them go away?" Castiel asked simply, his mind going completely blank. He hoped (hoped in the most obscene way) that Dean wouldn't want to stop dreaming about him so that he could pop in on one of his dreams and ... he couldn't even finish the thought._

_He was surprised when Dean replied with a stern, "no."_

* * *

But the memory faded away after that replaced by the thought that Dean's words to him that night had become true. He had indeed predicted my betrayal and had, in his own way, secured himself away. He hadn't done anything but what was expected of him, I reason, Dean was, after all, a troubled soul. Abandoned by his parents, whether it was their fault or not, and betrayed by his brother twice, Dean had a destiny that would have had most men running with their tails between their legs. But not Dean.

And that was why this betrayal, predicted or not, would hurt the most. For years Dean had locked himself away until he met me, that is. He had a hard time trusting most people out there but I was different. From the moment we met, I felt his trust in me. His initial fight was... not as strong as I had expected and soon, too soon by most timelines, we'd become close. I am the only one to ever get past those barriers he set up long ago. The only one he trusted the most beside his brother.

And it only made everything worse.

I can remember the way he looked at me as I sat on that bed waiting for an explanation. It was nearly a month after our coupling and there hadn't been much development in that area. I felt a pain in my chest whenever I would check up on them so different from the strange warm pooling in my stomach that I felt whenever Dean said my name.

It became a strange fascination to me, a kink, his saying my name. Every time Dean said my name I would have to swallow hard to keep from moaning from the pleasure it gave me. When he would say, "Cas," I almost jumped him where he stood. Deep down, I think he knew what affect my name had on me because he called me almost regularly and said my name many times. There was once where Sam, looking between us confused, asked him why he kept saying "Cas" at the end of each sentence.

The entire conversation had become "What do you think, Cas?" "What are your ideas, Cas?" "Any thoughts, Cas?" and, as much as I was enjoying it, Sam was getting annoyed. Dean stopped soon after that comment, dropping his eyes from mine as well.

And then night hit and his nightmares had him calling out for me. I would swoop down to comfort him every time. But that night was different. Dean was different. Every thing happened so fast and, even now, I cannot say who began the events that plague me.

* * *

_Castiel looked at Dean, head tilted to the side. The night had come around again and, Castiel could tell from the way Dean kept getting up to pour himself more coffee, that the hunter didn't want to sleep tonight. He could feel Dean's fears and, almost like he was the one having it, he could see the way his blue eyes looked at Dean in his dreams._

_Was that how I looked, he vaguely wondered as he made himself visible behind Dean as he got his _tenth_ cup of coffee. When the hunter turned, he almost dropped the white cup from seeing Castiel. He gasped loudly for a moment and then bit his lower lip._

_"We've talked about this, Cas," Dean said looking over Castiel's shoulder. Castiel tilted his head in confusion, waiting for clarification. "Personal space, dude."_

_"Ah," was all Castiel could say as he stepped back from the hunter. Dean walked past him and sat on the bed with a loud sigh._

_There was obvious tension being held in the hunter's body and Castiel wished he could be the one to release it but it was all in vain. He knew Dean would never let the events be replayed, especially now that Castiel knew his dreams were riddled with fantasies of their night together._

_Castiel couldn't tell Dean how he felt for he barely knew himself. He was sure of the feeling in his body whenever he was around the hunter. The way that his heart rate sped up and his hands shook from wanting to touch Dean. But he couldn't be sure it was nothing more than lust because he'd never experienced the feeling before._

_"Wha- what are you, um, doing here, Cas?" Dean asked in between a yawn and a groan. He held a hand up to his stomach as if something hurt slightly. Castiel furrowed his eyebrows. He would help, he would heal him and then they would talk._

_"Let me see," Castiel commanded and was surprised when Dean put his coffee cup down and stretched out on the bed. He pulled up his moss green shirt, much like the colour of his eyes, and revealed his pale skin to the angel. Castiel faltered a moment. This was _too_ easy. It was never this easy to get Dean to let Cas heal him. Something was 'up'._

_Castiel paid no attention to it; instead his eyes were drawn to Dean's hips and the way his pants pulled tight against his skin. The curve of Dean's hips immediately had him flushed as he remembered their night together and how Dean has moaned out in need when Castiel had kissed him..._

_"Um, Cas?" Dean said snapping Castiel out of his thoughts. "Getting kinda cold here. Gonna heal me or not?"_

_With as much detachment as possible, Castiel put his hands on the pale flesh and healed Dean's bruised ribs. He pulled back as fast as he could, noting the way Dean seemed to follow his every move with curiosity. Something about the hunter was... different. Something like-_

* * *

"We'd call Cas," Dean's voice pours into my mind. Immediately, I forgo the trip down 'memory lane' and pop in on the Winchester's without their knowledge. I appear behind Dean, like I usually do, and listen in.

They found Ellsworth like I knew they would but the place was wiped clean something that had Sam thinking I was involved. I look around, taking each and every detail before turning back to Dean who was adamantly pleading his case to Sam.

"This is Cas! Don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt, at _least_?"

Sam shakes his head once and, reluctantly, looks up at the ceiling. I look up too, wondering what had Sam so interested. When he began to call out for me, eyeing Dean in an 'I told you so' way when I didn't appear, I tried to keep myself from appearing.

"Castiel..." Dean says in a mix of a whisper and a plea, "Come on in."

But I didn't go to them... because I knew they would have questions. Questions I couldn't answer but also because... I was afraid. They could find out the truth, Dean could extract any information he wanted from me with a mere look. And it scared me, the power he seemed to hold over me so quickly and so efficiently, scared me to hell.

"Cas is busy," Dean finally says with a shrug. They turn to leave, joining Bobby who had been somewhere in the room with them. I had been too preoccupied with looking at Dean that I hadn't searched the house until it was too late. A moment after turning and heading for the door, demons spring out of nowhere and attack them.

Crowley sent his very best. I was caught as much by surprise as the rest of them. The attack left me with a choice. I could reveal myself and smite the demons, this angering Crowley more, or remain hidden and possibly watch as they got killed or wounded. They were my friends. My body makes the decision before my mind can catch up, making me visible and smiting the demons in less than a minute.

For that brief moments... I was _me_ again. I wasn't a fallen angel. I wasn't Castiel the one who fell for the humans. I was just Castiel, Angel of Thursday, protector and soldier of Heaven. I was... _me_ ... before emotions clouded my judgement.

"It's good to see you, Cas," Dean mutters. I help him up; unsure as to how he ended up on the floor. My hand strays on his for a moment longer than necessary and I'm sure Dean knows it too by the way he moves as far away as he can once I let go.

"You all right?" I ask looking directly at Dean. It is Sam who answers but I am not interested in his reaction as I say, "I'm glad I found you. I come with news."

As I expected, Dean's face lights up with an indescribable emotion. He squashes it out a moment later, as Sam looks at him, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Yeah?" Dean coughs and looks down at the floor, my eyes follow his movements before I can stop myself. Dean appears nervous but why? "What'd you find?"

"I firmly believe Crowley is alive," I say waiting for Dean's head to come back up and our eyes to meet. They do a moment later with Dean looking at Sam, however.

"You think, Kojak?" He turns to Bobby rather than to look at me and asks, "Well, what do we think about Cas saving our asses... _again_?"

The two men look at one another before Bobby says, "I think we owe you an apology."

"Why?" I look at Dean questioningly, already knowing the answer but wanting him to say it not Sam or Bobby. I want Dean to tell me he never suspected my involvement, however true it is, with Crowley. But he remains quiet, his eyes firmly planted on his shoes.

They explain what happened; all the while my gaze is on Dean who doesn't look up at me until I take a step towards him. He looks up then, his eyes wide with dread like if he was waiting for me to yell at him for ever believing I would work with a demon.

"You know ... you could've just asked me," I say looking directly into Dean's eyes. "I would've told you."

"And ... we should have. We should've never doubted you," Dean replies with a forced smile. "It's ... I hope you can forgive m – us."

"It's forgotten," I say with a small smile. Dean's shoulders visibly lax and he sighs out in relief, looking at his brother with a smile. "It's a little absurd, though."

"I know, I know," Bobby replies, walking away from the house. I follow behind with Dean.

It is then that I make the mistake of adding, "Superman going to the dark side. I'm still just Castiel."

Dean's eyes darken as he looks at me. He chews his lower lip, looking at Bobby and Sam who'd turned to look at me. "I guess we should put away the Kryptonite, right?"

I nod in response. Of course, at the time I didn't realize the mistake I'd made. But it was all over for me, from that moment on. Everything I'd worked for was about to fall around me, trapping me with my own stupidity.

In retrospect, I think I made the mistake on purpose. Perhaps my own subconscious wanted the Winchesters to know of my betrayal. I had been so careful thus far and to make such an amateur mistake... It wasn't logical. I was my own downfall, once more.

It wasn't my feelings this time but my need for Dean to know that, had things been different, I would not have chosen to work with Crowley. My need for him to find out and, somehow, stop me from opening Purgatory (and, perhaps, killing myself by swallowing the multitude of corrupt souls that lay in its infinite hell) overwhelmed my survival instinct. I wanted him to stop me, to beg me to stop with this stupid, idiotic asshat of a plan that was doomed to fail.

I wanted Dean to ... acknowledge me the way he had all those months ago as we laid in bed together. I wanted him to love me... to hate me... to feel _something_ for me instead of looking down whenever I was near. I needed Dean to stop me before this plan went any further.

* * *

**Note: **_I think this episode is one of the saddest and most revealing in Supernatural regarding Castiel. It seriously made me love the angel even more because he is just so agnst ridden and innocent! The ending especially got to me. So many feels!__  
_

_**Did anyone see tonight's episode? OMG Dean was so mean to Bobby! I mean, the man stayed on Earth for you, dimwit and you tell him he's unnatural? All I can say is: IDGIT!**_

_Reviews would be awesome as would pointing out any mistakes you see! Thanks for reading!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Title_: _**_Everytime_

**Beta:** None. All mistakes are my own.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Time:** S6:E20: The Man Who Would Be King

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. Some dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke._

_**Note: **_End to Chapter Four. I finished it on Monday but I wanted to finish Castiel's part of this all in one upload. So double upload, hopefully. I'm writing a small Fic right now with a naughty Gabriel and victimized Sammy so i might work on that before writing the next part.

**Also,** this is the part of the programing where i tell you that there is some graphic scenes towards the end that may or may not be poorly written because i couldn't stop giggling. Just thought i'd let you know :)

*I will upload every Friday after a new episode of Supernatural as aired just in case I add more parts to this later on.

* * *

_"It's the only way_

_That I see clear..."_

* * *

_"For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death" - 2 Corinthians 7:10._

* * *

Life is full of regrets. No, life is full of _choices_ that lead to regrets. For an angel there is but one path: the path that has been laid out by our Father long ago. Our choice is that of living and complying or falling and dying. We each have a role to play and that role, whether we want it or not, is our sole purpose for living. Sometimes, however, our roles are... abandoned. When that happens, in the fullest of extremes, Heaven becomes total anarchy.

I remember my return to heaven after trapping Lucifer back in his cage. I remember the complete state of anarchy Heaven was in. Angels were fighting to get the upper hand; they fought one another in multiple civil wars that, up to that point, were ending up in stalemates. When I was chosen to lead a sect, I was nervous. I felt unfit for the role, undeserving in the highest sense because I did not want to fight. Much has changed since then.

When Rachel, so naïve, asked what God wanted us to have, I, also naïve, said freedom. If I knew what I know now... I might have said... "It's simple. Freedom is a length of rope. God wants you to hang yourself with it." That simple statement might have saved lives and time. It might have made me realize how idiotic my plan was, how regretful I would feel later on when the smoke cleared.

Those first few weeks back in heave were surprisingly difficult. Not only did I have to deal with Rachel and the multitude of others who believed I had been brought back for a reason but also, being alone and unneeded by the Winchesters - or rather, Dean because Sam was trapped in the pit with Lucifer and Michael. The first thing I did after visiting Raphael, my only real opponent, and getting my ass kicked into next week, was resurrect Sam.

When that was all set and done, I went to Dean. I lingered outside his home for a long time, my eyes trained on his every moment. There were times were I could swear he was looking right at me but I knew that all part of my 'imagination', strange because I didn't think I had one. But eventually, after standing outside his home for many days, I gave up.

I was standing in Dean's garden watching him rake the fallen leaves from the dying grass. His shirt was taut against his muscular arms and, with each rake stroke, sweat mingled with the dampness of his hair from an earlier shower to fall gracefully down his face. There was no other way to describe it perhaps it was then that Crowley saw my weakness for it was only a few moments after Dean began to gather the drying leaves into a bag that Crowley appeared behind me, a deal on the tip of his tongue.

A deal I gladly took because I wanted to desperately keep Dean from fighting a battle that was never his. Battles that, given the choice, I would never have fought in. But I had no choice and, in my naivety, I accepted the demon's deal and that was how I sealed my fate. The first regret of many that would drive me away from Dean and would lead me to my death.

* * *

In Crowley's lab, after leaving the Winchesters and Bobby, I confronted the demon for his treacherous ways. He complained about my having killed his hunter asking why 'an eye for an eye' wasn't acceptable to me. He yells and screams like a spoiled brat about his little demons and how unfair the entire situation is. But it doesn't matter to me because the Winchesters are safe and this is the demon that almost had them killed. He is to pay, one way or another.

"You don't know I know what this is all about?" Crowley asks, pushing himself up and leaning towards me. His breath hits my face and the stench is close to overpowering me.

"Enlighten me," I say pulling away, annoyed at his closeness and noticing for the first time how human I've suddenly become. There was a time when I wouldn't even flinch at his invasion of my personal space.

"The big lie - the Winchesters still buy it," Crowley hisses at my side, circling around me like a piranha. "It bugs you that they still believe you to be the good Cas, the righteous Cas. But hey! As long as they believe it, you get to believe it."

"Shut up."

"Well, I got news for you, kitten," Crowley continued, completely ignoring me. "A whore is a whore is a _whore._ And that's all you are to Dean, really. Someone to use and fu-"

"Shut up!" I yell pushing the demon against the granite walls of the lab. His head bounces off the surface but he shows no pain, instead he smiles widely. I breathe in deeply, narrowing my eyes and trying my hardest not to smite Crowley for his offence. "Listen up, I'm only gonna say this once."

"Oohh," Crowley muses, with a laugh, "I'm all a-tremble."

I slam him against the wall again, making sure his head bounced off it before continuing. "If you touch a _hair_ on their heads, I will tear it all done. Our arrangement – everything." Crowley raises an eyebrow at me. "I'm _still_ an Angel, and I will _bury_ you. You mean nothing to me, they do."

I leave him without another word, ignoring his outburst after I leave. I return to my heaven and sit on the bench, my hands pulling at my hair. What was I doing with this _vermin?_ As if I didn't already know the answer. Dean. I was doing this for Dean... and the world.

I was no fool when I agreed to work with Crowley. I knew who he was and what he did. But I was smarter than him, stronger. I see now that I was prideful and, in all likelihood, I was a fool. The biggest fool in all of creation for having joined forces with the lowest of the low and having lied to the only people I could call a family. It was what Dean, Sam and even Bobby were. My family. I'm not so sure anymore, not with everything.

But the deal with Crowley, as foolish as I was to accept, did promise to fix the situation in heaven. We would open Purgatory, take some souls and beat Raphael without any more battles. I would stop the Apocalypse and save the world. I thought God had chosen me to save everyone... but why would God choose _me_? I was prideful and stupid to think it would work but it's far too late now to stop.

* * *

I heard Dean's voice above any other calls and prayers. Without another thought I zoom into Dean's prayer and appear behind him. Sam and Bobby are with him, unfortunately. I'd hoped to speak to him in private but seeing as they were still in Ellsworth's house, they might have run into more trouble.

"Hello," I greet them. My eyes sweep over Sam and Bobby and land on Dean. Something in his eyes alerts me slightly but I relax as he gives me a sad smile. "You're still here?"

"We, um, had to bury the bodies," Sam replied. My eyes flicker to the tallest Winchester but immediately return to Dean.

"And we found some whiskey," Dean tells me. I notice his trembling hands as he holds out a cup towards me. I take it, out fingers briefly making contact. He lets go as if contact with me burns his skin. "Th-thanks for coming, Castiel."

I ignore the use of my full name and, tilting my head, I ask, "How can I help?"

"We, um, we have a new plan and we think we've figured out how to get Crowley, too." Sam and Bobby share a look while Dean bites his lower lip. I look between the three of them, noticing the tension.

I make the mistake, one of many I've been doing lately, of asking, "What is it?" I look down just as Bobby, with a flick of his wrist, strikes a match and lights the holy fire circling me.

My mind blanks, as I turn around horrified. My heart races because I can feel Dean's eyes on me, begging me for the truth that I cannot do. The lies I have told have made the long road that has brought me to this very spot and has, singlehandedly, destroyed Dean's view of me. I make an attempt at yet another lie, looking between the Winchesters and begging them to let me out. But they do not budge.

"What are you doing?" I yell out. "Let me go!"

"We gotta talk," Dean replied sadly. His green eyes are on the verge of tears as he takes in my state. He can tell I'm lying, I just know it. I stop moving - stop trying to get out from the Holy Oil; it was useless anyway.

"Talk? Talk about what?"

"About Superman. And Kryptonite," Dean replies sharply. I look away knowing what my mistake was and being ashamed of it.

Sam and Bobby talk behind me, their harsh tones vibrating off the empty house but they are numb to me. Dean's eyes are on mine, unblinking and unforgiving. I want to say something, _anything,_ to make this right but the words escape me. There is nothing I can say that will stop the giant whole in my chest from eating away at my heart. There is nothing I can do to stop Dean from hurting at my betrayal. I try to convey an apology to Dean without having to say the words to him but he doesn't get it. He looks away.

"It's hard to understand!" I yell out as Dean's eyes leave mine. "It's hard to explain! Just let me go, please, and I can explain. Let me go, De-"

"You got to look at me, man." Dean steps as far as the Holy Oil will allow him and looks at me. The flames illuminate his face making each freckle on the bridge of his nose perk up. His eyes become brighter, and harsher, as he looks at me. "You got to level with me and tell me what's going on."

I say nothing. There is nothing I _can _say.

"Look me in the eye," Dean continues. I stare right at him, unblinking. "Tell me you're not working with Crowley." I hold his eyes for a moment longer before they deceive me. I drop his gaze, looking down at my shoes with remorse. If only he knew...

"Let me explain," I plead, walking as close to Dean as I can. The others are long forgotten and, as far as I'm concerned, there is no one in the room but Dean and I. "Let me explain, Dean."

"You're in it with him? You and Crowley have been going after Purgatory together? You and him ... together this whole time?"

There seems to be an underlying question in his statement. It takes me a moment before I get it and it hurts. I look away as his eyes tear up fully, knowing full well that those tears are the result of my stupidity and pride. I want to yell out that no, Crowley and I had not been together _together_ this entire time. That no, I had not played him in that aspect of our relationship... that I loved him but the words don't come out.

"I did it to protect _you_," I say instead, my voice hoarse and wavering. "I did it to protect you... all of you. Raphael will kill us all, he will bring the Apocalypse to earth and he will turn the world into a graveyard. I had no other choice."

"No," Dean says without looking at me. "You had a choice. You just made the wrong one."

"You don't understand," I exclaim, "It's complicated!"

"No, actually, it's not, and you know that," Dean says. He reaches out towards me, his hand going through the ring of fire and touching my cheek softly. I look away as his thumb caresses my lower lip. It seems I am not the only one who has forgotten Sam and Bobby are also in the room.

"Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew it was wrong? When crap like this comes around we deal with it... like we always have." He pulls his hand back and turns from me. I feel cold as his touch leaves me in more than one way.

"It sounds so simple when you say it like that," I reply lamely. "Where were you when I needed to hear it?"

"I was there," Dean replied without turning around. "Where were you?"

_I was there too_, I want to tell him, _watching you be happy with Lisa and Ben_. I was there, always wanting to speak to him but too much of a coward to do it. Dean was happy for once in his life and ... I couldn't rip that from him. I stare at him back wanting – no, _needing_ – to tell him everything, to explain why. But, once again, the words escape me, trapped forever in the confines of my throat.

"You should've come to us for help," Dean says, turning slightly towards me. I can see a tear fall down his cheek before he turns away and wipes it away. My heart breaks because I know I was the source of his pain, his sadness. I made him cry.

"M-maybe," I whisper to myself. "But it's too late now, I can't turn back. I ... simply can't."

Outside, a cloud of demon smoke approaches the house. Bobby and Sam look out the windows and try to pull Dean away from me. But Dean pulls away, coming as close as before and reaching towards me once more. I lick my trembling lips and whisper _'sorry, love'_ when Sam turns back to the window. Dean lets out a shaky breathe, still resisting his brother's pull.

"It's not too late," he insists. But I shake my head, my eyes never leaving Dean's green eyes for it might be the last time I see them look at me with such emotion. "Damn it, Cas! We can fix this! We can fix _us_!" He pulls away from a screaming Sam and grabs my hands. I feel them tremble between his strong hold and try my hardest to breathe as he pleads, one last time, "_Please_, Cas, we can fix this. I forgive you, just please stop this."

"I'm sorry," I whisper trying to keep a composed face while my heart crumbles and die. I pull my hands from his hold and take a step back. Sam takes the opportunity and pulls Dean back. The smoke outside is getting closer and closer. Before Sam pulls Dean out of the house completely, I yell, "Dean, we're not broken! I love you!"

The last thing I see before Crowley appears is Dean biting his lip and his eyes watering. The last thought in my mind before Crowley angers me is that I have to make it up to Dean, whatever happens I have to make it up to him. If it means giving up my life, then so be it.

* * *

After spending some alone time in my heaven (and after being rescued by Crwoley), I linger outside Bobby Singer's home. Dean and Sam are inside and, try as they might, they cannot keep me out with the angel proofing they put up. Its late at night, closer to dawn than to dusk, and Dean is lying on a battered old couch in the study. Books and bottles of beer surround the hunter who gets up as I make myself visible. He rubs his face with his hands and stands.

"Hello, Dean."

He looks at me, confused. Looking at the windows questioning, he asks, "How'd you get in here?"

I motion to the windows and say, "the angel-proofing Bobby put up on the house – he got a few things wrong." It strikes me as strange that the seasoned hunter would intentionally put up the wrong sigils but the thought disappears as I notice a small smile play on Dean's lips. "You-"

"We'll its too bad we got to angel-proof in the first place, isn't it?" Dean interrupts before I can ask if he provided the sigils. Surely, Dean wouldn't sabotage the markings... would he? He picks up a beer, pulling it up to his lips and taking a large sip. His eyes snap to me as he puts the now empty bottle on the coffee table. "Why are you here, Cas?"

"I want you to understand," I say. "I want you to know that I'm doing this _for_ you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you."

Dean's eyes narrow and he takes a step towards me. He looks at me for a moment before replying, harshly, "Because of me. Yeah. You_ got_ to be kidding me."

I know it is useless to explain but I try anyway. I explain that, thanks to him, I learnt what freewill and freedom felt like and I wanted to have all of heaven, all of Creation, experience that. But he is not listening.

"You're a freakin' child, you know that?" he asks, taking a step towards me. I don't move, frozen in my place as our eyes connect. I see it then, all the pain and hurt that he is trying to bury deep down with all this 'macho' talk. "Just because you _can_ do what you want, doesn't mean that you _get_ to do whatever you want!"

"I know what I'm doing, Dean."

"I'm not gonna logic you, okay? I'm saying don't... just 'cause." His voice rough but eyes soft and pleading. He looks at me, his lower lip trembling. His hands come up to cup my face. His breath hits my face as he whispers, "I'm _asking_ you not to. That's it."

"I ... I don't understand," I tell him softly, hoping his warm hands don't leave my face. But they do a moment later as he pulls away, turning his back to me. I take a step towards him; close enough for him to feel me behind him. I am reminded of our time together, those limited amount of nights that we spent in each other's arms. Letting out a shaky breathe, I touch his shoulder and turn him to face me.

Tears are running freely down his face. I reach up and wipe them away, like I had many times before. Our eyes connect for what seems like an eternity where, I'm sure, I stopped breathing.

"Ne- next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family," he says softly, his voice cracking a bit. He swallows and my eyes are glued to his tanned throat and the way his Adam's apple bobs. His voice snaps my eyes back to his eyes as he continues, "you are like a brother to me...no, more that a brother, Cas. You're... you're mine."

I inhale deeply as his words hit home. He wants me to know how he feels in as many words he can without saying those three little words. I clench my teeth together, I pull my hands away and, fisting my hands at my sides until my arm, I take a step back. A shaky breath leaves Dean as I move away.

"I'm asking you not to do this... you have to trust me, Cas."

"Or what?" I challenge despite myself, turning back towards him. I arch my eyebrow, daring him and hoping he takes the bait. "Or what, Dean? Will you hunt down your family? Will you hunt _me_ down and kill me?"

Dean squares his shoulders, wiping away his tears and moving towards me. In one fluid movement, he is in front of me looking as lethal as a wild beast. But I know better. I know it is all a façade.

"I'll have to do what I have to do to stop you," he growls at me.

"You can't," I say sadly. "You're just a man. I'm an angel."

"I've taken some pretty big fish, Cas."

I smile as he uses my nickname. All is not lost after all. I wish, I _hope_, that he can and will stop me should the time come but for the moment all I can say is, "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Well," he replies reaching out towards me. He pulls me closer to him, our lips a hair away from touching and whispers, "I'm sorry too, then," before connecting our lips.

I lean into the kiss, my heart racing as I place my hands on his slim waist, pulling him closer to me. Our hips collided and, letting out a soft moan, Dean deepens the kiss. His tongue traces my lower lip as if asking for permission. I smile against his lips and open my mouth, letting him inside. His hand moved to my hair, pulling our faces closer and tilting my head back slightly.

We separate a moment later when a noise from upstairs alerted us that someone, most likely Sam, had woken up. The moment his lips and body leave mine, I feel empty and alone. But the feeling goes away when, after deciding the noise was fluke, Dean pulls me by the lapels of my trench coat for another kiss.

This time he pulls apart, putting our foreheads together and caresses my cheek. I'm breathless by the time he puts his hand around my neck and leans over to kiss me. The heat of our mouths, together moving softly, almost tenderly against each other, resembles our first kiss. I lock my arms around him as my mind returns to that night. Our hips collide once more and I am dragged down on the couch with Dean under me, still locked in a kiss. I straddle his hips, removing my trench coat and leaning down to grasp the side of his head, tilting his face to the side to get at his neck.

Dean moans as I kiss and lick his neck, tasting sweat and something so _Dean_ I cannot describe. Something in the back of my mind says I should stop because this could very well be out last night together. But I ignore it as Dean reaches for my shirt and tie, removing both and tossing them to the side. Before I can even make a sound, Dean flips us over gracefully and I find myself being straddled by him. He reaches for my belt with one hand, the other touching the expanse of my chest while he leans down to kiss my neck.

I feel his tongue making circles against my skin, right under my ear and moan. His hand touches my nipple, holding the bud between his index and thumb, rubbing it until it is standing at attention before moving on to the other. His lips trail down my neck, his tongue making a hot trail that leads to my chest.

When his hot lips circle my nipple at the same time as his hand reaches my aching length, I let out what can only be described as a squeal. My breath gets caught in my throat when his hand begins to stroke me while his other hand pulls at my neck. He pulls me in for a kiss, abandoning my nipple for my mouth. I moan into the kiss when his thumb graces my tip, rubbing it for a second before his hot hand strokes the rest of my cock.

"This is what I can give you," Dean whispers against my lips. I stare at him, breathing hard from his touching, begging him to continue. I bite my lower lip as his thumb circles my tip again, a shutter running down my body as he pulls hard. "I can give you this every friggin' night for the rest of our lives, Cas."

There is a tense moment where, while his hands continue to stroke me, our eyes meet and I can see our future together - an angel and a human, living side-by-side, in love and happy but most of all, together. Laughing and enjoying each other for eternity... but even in this aroused state I know it cannot happen. When Dean leans down to place another kiss against my lips, I fly away. I slip into another dimension, leaving him to slump down on the couch, aroused, confused and probably angry.

"I can't," I whisper as I dress myself. I appear back in the study a moment later, my eyes trained on Dean's face. He looks up as I return, our eyes meeting and I think that perhaps we _could_ be together. But it's all an illusion.

Reality hits me as he stands and throws a punch. It doesn't collide, I'm far too quick for that, but it is enough to startle me back to reality where I have betrayed Dean. He sits on the couch, his head in his hands and chest heaving. He's crying, I realize taking a seat next to him. Intentional or not, he leans against me, pulling my hands towards his.

"I love you," he whispers softly. "I love you, Cas."

"I know," I say before leaving. "I love you too, Dean."

* * *

"So, that's everything. I don't know if it makes sense, but it is how it happened. Dean and I are... connected like no other beings in Creation and it is a tragedy, as you would call it from the human perspective. But maybe the human perspective is... limited. There is still a chance, once this is all over that maybe, just maybe, Dean can forgive me and we can be together. That's why I'm asking you, Father. One last time. Am I doing this right? Is this what is right and just? Am I on the right path?"

I look around my heaven where snow has fallen, somehow. There is no sign, not even a peep but I try again... I will try until my voice leaves me because this path doesn't seem right anymore. It seems more... sacrificial than anything I have ever faced.

"You have to give me ... a sign. Give me a sign," I beg. I look up at the sky, my eyes searching for a sign from God. But there is nothing but silence. "Please because if you don't... I'm gonna ju- I'm gonna have to whatever I ... whatever I must..."

Nothing occurs for a brief moment. But then a clear voice, rough and pleading, sounds in my head. The voice is like a beacon of light that beckons me towards it like a moth to a flame. My lips pull up in a smile as I recognize its owner.

"Thank you," I whisper to the heavens. "Thank you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Title_: _**_Everytime_

**Beta:** None. All mistakes are my own.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Time:** S6:E22: The Man Who Knew Too Much_  
_

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. Some dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke._

_**Note: **__Chapter Five is here! Yay! No double upload earlier this week, sorry. This chapter gave me a lot of trouble because I'm half sick, half worried about my placement Uni test tomorrow and half falling asleep. I kno? how can their be three halves? well, there are somehow three halves to me... must get that checked out._

_So, what i did was make a schedule and set a day for every story i have. Of course, this falls under Fridays. So every Friday expect at least one upload from me._

_This Chapter can be a bit all over the place but its on purpose. The way i see it, Castiel had all these souls inside of him and he's completely stable whilst Sam had one extra passenger (kinda?) and he's crackers? So... Cas is going slowly cuckoo for cocoa puffs._

* * *

"What have I done?

You seem to move on easy..."

* * *

_There was a sort of crack on the wall where, upon my command, black smoke escaped and filled me. A still moment later, where I thought I was going to be suffocated alive, the smoke cleared and I felt... different. I had millions and millions of souls inside of me and yet, I felt oddly safe. With this power I could take on anyone, I could set things straight. Once everything was on the right track, Dean and I could be together. _

_That's all that mattered. Dean. Always Dean._

_There was nothing to stop me from beating Raphael. It was my ultimate goal, to beat my brother at his own game. And I'd won, perhaps not fair and square and with a few more enemies but nothing in life is fair and simple. _

_I felt Dean calling out for me, asking and pleading for my help but I ignore it. Something inside me said this is was a wrong idea, a voice very familiar to Dean's, but I quickly squashed it down deep in my self-conscious. Its too late now for regrets... far too late. _

_A few days ago the voice, so deep and rich, begged me to not do this. Not to take in this multitude of souls and waste myself away. The voice pleaded, begged and even tried to bargain but it was all to no avail. It all went numb to my ears as I stared at those deep moss coloured eyes and wished, for the hundredth time, that things were different. _

_But they were not and so, staring deep into the abyss of those tearful eyes, I gave in to temptation. _

_There was nothing to stop me this time for I knew for certain it would be the last time I would be in Dean's arms. I could feel his reluctance as I pulled him close to me and kissed him. But he didn't resist. He kissed me back with as much fervour as he could muster, his hands pulling at my clothes to remove my trench coat. We were not in Bobby's study; Dean had found a stingy motel not far from the house and had called me. We had total privacy, for the first time, and there was nothing to stop me from showing him how sorry I felt. _

_"I love you," I whispered between kisses. "I love you."_

_He moaned as I undressed him, throwing him onto the bed and getting on top of him. I pressed my dressed body down to his naked form, pressing him down to the mattress with the roll of my hips. A shaky breath escaped him as I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before claiming his lips. I nipped at his lower lip before kissing my way down his neck and to his already perked up nipples. He made no attempt to stop me as I sucked one of the nubs into my mouth, my eyes firmly planted on his face._

_His eyes were blown wide with lust, his pupils as dark as any demons. It gave me a certain amount of pleasure knowing that I was the only one to cause such a reaction in him. That only I would see him this way, so pliant and needy._

_But now that feels like it happened millions of years ago. The touch of his skin against mine, his lips against my body, have disappeared leaving only sadness behind. The only thing that is still with me, and perhaps will be with me until the end, is his voice on the verge of tears begging me not to do this. But I did and now, with these memories to hold me together, I close my eyes and locate Raphael. _

* * *

_Too bad they hadn't know they were using dog's blood instead of the concoction Crowley had made earlier. I appeared behind them, holding the empty jar in triumph. Dean's eyes lit up when he saw me only to narrow at the jar in my hands. Something inside me cracked a little but I ignored it and looked at my brother and the back stabbing demon._

_"You said it perfectly," I said in answer to Crowley's confused look. "All you needed was this." I presented the jar to them, setting it down on the table and looking at Raphael as Crowley proclaimed they'd been working with dog blood. Too bad they hadn't figure it out later; they might have been able to stop me._

_"Enough of these games, Castiel." Raphael, in his female vessel, tooks a bold step forward. "Give us the blood."_

_"You- Game's over." Crowley, taking in the empty jar and rolling his eyes at Raphael, said with sigh. He turned and asked me, "So, Castiel, how'd your ritual go? Better than ours, I'll bet."_

_I closed my eyes, a bright light erupted from my form briefly, and I sent a bit of my Grace to Dean while showing Raphael how powerful I'd become. The light faded away a moment later and when Dean looked up, our eyes connected for a brief second before he looked to Raphael who looked scared for the first time in a long time._

_"You can't imagine what it's like," I said taking a step forward. "They're all inside me. Millions upon millions of souls... all inside _me_."_

_"Sounds sexy," Crowley commented. "Exit stage Crowley." _

_I let him disappear, I had plans for him but now all I cared about was defeating Raphael. The rage inside me startled me but one look at my brother and I understood. I must get my revenge. I must do this for Dean. _

_Raphael begged me for his life but I ignored him. How many times had I begged him to stop this foolish plan of re-starting the Apocalypse? How many of our brethren _died_ because they wouldn't drop down to his level and beg for forgiveness? No, he deserved to die for everything we'd suffered. He deserved to die for _leading_ me to this decision, for _making_ me who I was today._

_"I have plans for the demon," I told him. "You on the other hand..." I snapped my fingers much like Raphael did when I first confronted him in Heaven. I hoped he recognized the gesture before he exploded. His sword fell to the ground and I picked it up, a trophy from my victory. I turned to Dean and Bobby and said, "So, you see, I saved you."_

* * *

There were many things that led to my demise, really. In retrospect, it hadn't been just pride and foolishness (although they were contributing factors) but the biggest was Dean. I'm not trying to put the blame on him, not at all but he was, still is, the reason why I am locked in an internal battle with the Leviathans for the control of my body.

A few days ago, while trying unsuccessfully to avoid thinking about Dean, I took a peak on their progress. Bobby had tried, and failed, at fixing some of the sigils and so I was allowed in.

Invisible to everyone, I walked among them and listened in. The slow progress at which they were going made me angry. And so, I furthered their cause by stealing a journal that might have been valuable. I knew Bobby had made copies of it, I wasn't stupid, and it got them back on track with finding Purgatory.

A few days after that, and my untimely revelation in my heaven, Dean called out for me. I was there before he could even finish saying my name. I tried to appear composed as I looked at his form like it was the first time, coveting him with a mere look of admiration. He blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sweaty, nervous hand.

He had me at his beck and call, he knew it and I knew it. I would always come for him (in more ways than one) even if it was just to be yelled at. Just being in his presence made my Grace light up with unmentionable joy. We didn't do anything, I don't think Dean wanted anything but to make sure I was okay. And I was. A few hours later, however, things cracked around me.

* * *

_I found him in an alley. I wasn't thinking, or perhaps I was and I just didn't have the willpower to stop myself. I did nothing for a second, standing behind him invisible to his human eyes. I looked at him, so normal for someone who had a cracking wall in his head. I knew what I had to do, I'd seen the wall when I'd made sure his soul was back. I knew its location, its purpose and, most of all, what it kept from coming forth._

_My brother. I could sense his presence, or at least a tiny fraction of it, within Sam. But it didn't stop me from bringing down his wall a moment later as I materialized to his eyes and pressed two fingers to his forehead. There was a light and a crack, whether the noise was in my mind or real, I cannot say. But when the wall came tumbling down and Sam's eyes opened... I fled._

* * *

I'm not proud of what I did. I might even feel bad for doing it but it had bought me sometime and had prevented Dean from calling out for me. Well, he still called out but his 'prayer' was more shouting and cursing than sweet and loving. I wanted my last memories of the hunter to be... like my first. A tired, pissed off and frustrated hunter who would do anything to protect himself and his family. I wanted to leave Dean with another memory however and that made everything harder. And I failed.

* * *

_Eleanor was dead when I appeared. I'd taken her, everyone knew that but I had not wished her death. She was, after all, an abomination but she hadn't hurt anyone for a long time. None of it mattered because, in the end, she was evil. I felt no remorse as I flew down and landed behind Sam and Dean._

_"I'm sorry this had to happen," I told them. Bobby stood up and charged at me. "Crowley got carried away."_

_That didn't satisfy the older hunter. He tried to get at me but the Winchester's stopped him. I almost felt bad, _almost,_ at seeing the man who kept everyone else together be so... broken. Bobby did not deserve this but, at that point, I was not me anymore._

_"You don't even see it, do you? How totally off the rails you are!"_

_"Dean..." Sam warned._

_"No, Sammy," Dean replied. "I'm done with this crap! He's not Cas anymore; he'd this empty _thing_ in Cas' body. He's not the man I-"_

_"Enough!" I yelled hurriedly. I didn't want to hear the end of the sentence, already my body ached with an unfamiliar pain and my hands were going numb. What this feeling was... was very unfamiliar but I did not wish to feel it anymore. "I've tried to make you understand. You won't listen. So let me make this simple. _Please_, go home and let me stop Raphael. I won't ask again."_

_"Well good, 'cause I think you already know the answer," Dean replied sternly._

_"I wish it hadn't come to this," I said, shaking my head sadly. "Well rest assured, when this is all over, I will save Sam, but only if you stand down."_

* * *

I removed his wall a few days later and since then... I haven't been able to face Dean. I made a mistake in that aspect, I realize that now, by not only breaking down Sam's wall but by commanding them to stand down. I should have know better than to tell them to step aside while the big bad angel cracks open Purgatory and gets souls. I was stupid and very... naïve.

As I was later on when Crowley gave me the jar of blood. I renegotiated our deal, without his approval and that had Crowley mad but... surprisingly cool. I'd expected something like what happened a few weeks ago when I killed some of his demons. But nothing of a sorts... he seemed rather happy to comply, for Crowley that is.

When Balthazar appeared I knew I was done for. I knew of his betrayal and how he'd helped the Winchester's but ... somehow, knowing that my best friend in heaven had chosen them over me hurt beyond anything else.

Worst of all was his understanding of my situation. He knew my feelings and he knew me better than anyone yet he... tried to play his betrayal off even though, I'm sure; he knew what was going to happen.

* * *

_"Uh, but what do you want me to do about Dean?" Balthazar asked as if weighing down my thoughts on the human. he knew how I felt about Dean and it was how he measured my mood throughout the day._

_"Nothing," I replied. "I'll handle him myself."_

_There was a tense silence when I debated killing him over sending him on a wild goose chase. But I wasn't good at deceiving people whereas Balthazar was the master at it and would be able to see my lie for what it was. I prepared my angel blade, turning it between my fingers._

_"Castiel? Are you alright?"_

_"First Sam and Dean, and now this. I'm doing my best in impossible circumstance," I turned to Balthazar and, nipping at my bottom lip, tried to make him understand before I killed him. "My friends, they abandon me, plot against me. It's difficult to understand, brother. I feel regret and remorse but most of all, loneliness."_

_"Well, you've – you've always got little old me," Balthazar said, unsure. He could feel what was about to happen and he didn't stop it. When I appeared behind, he tenses but doesn't fly away. _

_I pressed the blade against him, harshly, and said my last words to him. "Yes, I'll always have you. Thank you, brother."_

_"Cas..." Balthazar whimpered out before I stabbed him with the blade. His light fills the room as his Grace dies. I feel remorse once more but it is quickly gone._

* * *

When the ritual began I felt uneasy. I stood alone in am empty building with nothing but the incantation and the blood concoction. I was alone... and it felt wrong. I kept looking over my shoulder hoping to see green eyes walk towards me to stop me or join me. It didn't matter at this point. But I was alone.

When I killed Raphael, surrounded by Dean's scent, I felt complete. Funny enough, I would die seeing his eyes in my mind. I would die listening to his throaty voice as he reached climax under me repeating my name like a mantra. I wouldn't picture the horrified look he gave me when I refused to let the souls be taken away or when I said I had other angels to take care off. I wouldn't picture his hurt expression as I spoke with a voice that was my own yet not.

I would recall his impassionate speech and how ... it hurt to hear him say it. I would recall his tearful eyes and stern mouth set in a line as he finished.

"_Listen to me_," he pleaded. "_I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you... please. I've lost everyone; don't make me loose you too. I don't think I can take loosing you, Cas_."

But I didn't listen. My mind was gone... completely obliterated by the raging war that was inside me. The war that I didn't know I was loosing until the end.

"You're not my family, Dean," I told him without looking at him. It was a lie, he knew it and I knew it and I couldn't face him as I said it. "I have not family."

I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't the same Castiel... I was something less than that. I was nearly... demonic. I could tell that at that very moment something in me was slowly shattering. For a moment I thought perhaps it hadn't been Sam's wall that I'd broken down but my own. My thoughts were muddled, obscure and dark. Never before had I felt so human.

Sam stabbed me with a blade but it was to no affect. I wasn't an angel anymore. I was an abomination, even if I tried to deny it to myself.

"I'm not an angel anymore," I told them. "I'm your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, you Lord," I looked right at Dean and begged him to bow down. When he didn't, I added, "Or I shall destroy you."

* * *

**Literally dying on the inside until next Friday when Cas comes back! Misha Collins, how dare ye excite these feelings? *Hugz* We want Castiel back, now, damnit! I squealed so loud i think i scared my cats and my mum. So excited for next week! **


	7. Chapter 7

**_Title: _**_Everytime_

**Beta:** None. All mistakes are my own.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Time:** S7:E1: Meet The New Boss_  
_

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. Some dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke._

_**Note: **__Chapter Six of possibly Ten. I wrote the first part during my Uni Placement Test but i had to stop cuz of the schedule I have to follow so... sorry It's not longer, I have a giant headache that's more of a bother than usual. This was all I could write without having my brain explode all over my screen._

_**Also, Consider this** **Chapter Six: Part One of Three** :) I loved insane, kinda kooky Cas so much I wanna write a chappie for him. I think this is where Castiel begins to become the orgy druggie we saw in S4:E4: The End._

* * *

"Everytime I try to fly I fall

Without my wings

I feel so small

I guess I need you baby..."

* * *

There was a time when the colour blue brought such joy and pleasure within me. The colour alone brought with it wonderful, sweet memories of some of the happiest moments in my life. The colour meant everything to me for a long time. A colour I could easily associate with a certain blue-eyed angel with pouty lips and an intense gaze. Eyes that always looked either on the verge of tears, so soft and sweet, or on the verge on constipation, narrowed and hard. Eyes belonging to an angel that became my world the moment our lips touched.

But now, even thinking about the bright colour breaks my heart. I feel myself sinking into a pit of self-loathing because I knew, if I had been there for him like was there for me, I could have stopped him. The mere mention of his name makes my heart stop. It was my fault he did what he did. I know that know. I gave him the idea of freewill, rebellion and I taught him how to feel. I thought, at the time, I was helping little Mr nerd angel be more human and less _I-will-smite-you-where-you-stand._ But I ended up teaching him everything that was wrong in humanity.

"I did it for you," he said when we trapped him in the ring of holy oil. "I did this for you, Dean."

In that moment, when our eyes met, I felt the world fade. It was only Castiel and I. No one else existed but my angel and me. When the truth came out that fantasy came crumbling down like a stampede of elephants. It pummelled me to the ground, stomped on my body and then came back for seconds, thirds, and fourths.

_He's just trying to play you_, my mind reasoned. _He knew how you felt. He's been playing you this whole time._

Perhaps he was, but I couldn't just stand by and let him turn into the enemy. I begged and pleaded with him, but it went in numb ears. I was a fool to think he ever felt something for me, I realise that now. I was a fool to think he ever loved me. I was a fool to trust those baby blue eyes and fall in love with their owner.

It was hard to see him gallivanting around the world, destroying and smiting people. It was harder knowing that no matter how much I prayed he wouldn't fly to me. He was ignoring me, I knew it and yet I continued to pray to my angel in hopes that he was there, deep down and would one day return to me. I was getting my hopes up, I know, but I could not stop.

* * *

I work on the Impala, trying to keep my mind off my fallen angel as best as I could. I love Baby about as much as I miss Castiel and strangely enough I find myself comparing the two in my head as I lie back on her backseat and push her roof with my feet.

Baby is a very dignified, very sophisticated car (hell, she is nearly a person in my mind). She is sleek and smooth, her body a work of art. Her mind is top notch, her actions always just. Never once has she let me down. She's trustworthy and has been there when everyone else has left. Who was there every time Sam got pissy and left me on the road? Baby. Who was there for me when dad died? Baby. Who's been the most constant thing in my life? Baby.

Until Cas showed up, that is.

His first words to me still give me chills. _I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition._ His stare and those intense blue eyes so full of revelations, of truth, it scared me. He trusted me as quickly as I trusted him, about a minute after Bobby tried to stab him with the knife and was rendered unconscious.

There was something about him that just clicked. His firm voice so different than his soft blue eyes; his full lips always so chapped that would say the most innocent things I have ever heard; his nose that would scrunch up when something was off but he couldn't figure out what. Hell, even the way he tilted his head when he was confused seemed to be burned into my mind from the first moment he appeared.

He was so different from Baby, more of a loner and less of a follower. He had his moments of emotion that Baby can never have. As I pushed on her hood, I realised that while I knew she would always be with me, I knew Cas would one day leave me. I didn't know when or how, but I've always felt like he was... always on the edge of staying with me and leaving me. I remember saying this to him once. I remember he said he would be here for as long as he needed to be. It wasn't as reassuring as he meant it to be, I guess.

* * *

_Their sweating bodies were moving in sync. Dean was moaning out random things and trying his hardest to keep himself together because his angel was over him, smiling as pounded into him. He bit his lip only to have Castiel stop moving inside of him and lean down. Dean grunted in disappointment and looked at the angel who's face was a breath away._

_"Why have you stopped?" Castiel asked him. He tilted his head as he looked at Dean, his eyes black with lust. Sweat was falling down his face, and most of his body, making Dean's hand itch to wipe it off._

_"I could ask you the same thing, Cas." He reached between them, gently touching Castiel's abdomen to the spot where he knew he loved. He touched him with careful, concise fingers. The angel leaned down, his forehead on Dean's shoulder and breathed out. He was getting more aroused now, his eyes closed, his nose scrunched up – he looked adorable to Dean in a 'I can kill you with a snap of my fingers but I choose not to because I love you' sort of way._

_"I- um – I l-lo-" Castiel began to move again, his body pounding into Dean's relentlessly. He continued to stroke Castiel's sweet spot until a few moments later the angel, without warning, came inside him. A few moments and a couple of touched later Dean did too. "I l-lo-_

_"I do too, Cas," Dean interrupted. He didn't want the angel to say those words, he couldn't say them back and it would only hurt Castiel. It wasn't that he didn't love him; it was something he just couldn't put his finger on. "I do too."_

* * *

_They lay in bed eventually falling asleep, waking up a few hours later when the sun shone in through the window. Castiel's head was on his chest, Dean's hand was combing through the angel's brown hair while telling him about their latest case. It was all very interesting to Castiel, he never failed to bring up another alternative and suggest other means of killing the creature. He seemed so lively at time, so alive, he almost looked like a five year old with a new toy._

_When he finished his tale, Dean kissed the top of Castiel's brown hair. The angel turned, his chin on Dean's chest and eyes glued to his face. There was a pause, a tension that crackled in the air with an unspoken question that hung between them. Dean knew what it was; Castiel probably did too going by the way his blue eyes were slightly larger and more vulnerable than usual._

_"Why can't you say it?" Castiel asked softly. Dean ran his hand through his hair, rubbing his face before cupping Castiel's cheeks and pulling him closer._

_Castiel was straddling his hips before he opened his mouth, revealing his every fear. Taking a deep breath, he said softly, "I'm scared that you'll leave me. That you'll be called back home to wherever it is that you live and never come down. That you'll be killed during a battle with Raphael, that you'll die in heaven and I'll never know about it." He stopped. Sitting up on the bed, he pulled Castiel closer to him, pulling his thighs on either side of his body. His hands touched Castiel at the back of his neck, pulling him until their foreheads touched before continuing. "I'm scared of loosing you, of loving you and then being ripped from you. I'm scared I'll have a chick-flick moment much larger than this one because I'll never be with you forever. I need you, I want you, I love you."_

___"Dean," the angel said, "I'll be here as long as you need me."_

* * *

**Did anyone catch an Elvis Presley reference? There is a name of a song he sang back in 1956 somewhere in this chapter. Anyone?**

**Leave me reviews on what you thought about tonights episode? Was it too AU for you (cuz parts of it was for me)?**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Title: _**_Everytime_

**Beta:** None. All mistakes are my own.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Time:** S7:E1: Meet The New Boss, S7:E2: Hello, Cruel World_  
_

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. Some dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke._

_**Note: **Thanks to Casismyfavorite for reviewing every chapter, it was an awesome Good Morning. I may have made Dean a little less 'macho' but c'mon we all know he's a big softy on the inside, and keeping all his emotions caged in and stuff has to make him vulnerable sometime. __  
_

_ **Chapter Six: Part Two of Three**_

* * *

Sometimes I dream of him, of Cas. I dream that we are in a hotel somewhere watching a movie. I dream that I'm explaining almost everything that is happening to Cas with a smile as he looks at me with his wide confused eyes. I dream that we're together, happy and that the world is find and dandy.

Other times, I have nightmares. I dream that he appears before me covered in blood and gore that is both his and not. I dream that he is killing people and then coming to me as if to repent for his sins. I dream that he begs me to forgive him, begs me to help him because he is loosing control. But I refuse and try as I might I cannot stop myself from saying, "you've made your bed, now lie on it, Castiel. I don't ever want to see you again!"

There are times where I think he is nearby, watching me. I turn around or get out of Baby's hood as fast as I can but he isn't there. My eyes never meet his impossibly blue orbs, my lips never call out for him and my ears never hear him call out for me. It's all rather poetic in that sense, I think, but what do I know?

The gust of wings as birds fly overhead always manages to make my heart flutter. I keep waiting for one of the noises to come from my angel, my fallen-and-can't-get-up angel, my Castiel.

Sam thinks I'm in going crazy. He, if anyone, is the one that's going crazy. He thinks I haven't noticed, but I have. I'm not all muscle and charm, you know? I've seen the way he looks around, his eyes glazing and his attention drawn somewhere else. I've seen Sammy in a better state back when he did have his soul and that scared me. But I won't pry, not _that_ much, because then he'll turn the tables on me and I don't think I'm ready for the 'you are in love with Castiel' speech he's been hogging.

Bobby is worried about me so much we even had a chick flick moment. It was heartwarming in a strange way that he would say he was okay with Cas and I, in his usual banter.

"I don't care what you and the angel do, just keep it under control. I don't think the old house can handle a sex 'quake."

It was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Awkward but sweet and it was better than Sam's, "I don't wanna see it, hear it or feel it!"

* * *

I knew I was dreaming the moment he appeared to me. He was in his dusty trench coat that now had Raphael's blood on the front side and a hole on the back where Sammy stabbed him. His eyes were wild, never settling on one thing for too long. His lips weren't chapped, they were parted and wet so different from the reality. Even so, I went to him. I walked right up to my dream Cas and hugged him. He tensed against me, his body becoming as rigid as a wooden plank.

"Come back to me," I whispered in a totally not-chick-flick moment. "I forgive you."

I snap out the dream, a moment later, to find a single black feather in the bed stand next to me. I pick it up between my thumb and index finger, turning on the light with my left hand and holding the feather under it with my right. The feather, all dark and glossy, nearly disappears under the lamplight. When I move it away, the practically creates it own energy, glowing and almost pulsating in my hand.

I clutch it to my chest, like a teenage girl holding on to her pillow, and cry.

* * *

I work on Baby the next morning, on fixing her busted lady humps to the best of my ability. It's a slow progress, has to be to repair someone this special and unique. I love Baby and I would work on her forever if it meant my mind would be occupied.

It's around noon when I pushed myself from under her hood with a sigh. I need to reconstruct her engine, not to mention her frame is totalled and her roof. Gently touching her frame as I walk around her, I don't notice a figure standing a few feet away until I'm practically in front of him.

"Cas..." My breath leaves me; my brain takes a vacation as my heart takes over. I stare into the two impossibly blue eyes and wonder how I never saw it before, his absolute adoration for me. Even worst, how did _I_ not see that I was utterly in love with him? It sucked knowing what both mistakes caused.

"Dean," Castiel says with a small nod. He walks towards me, his steps short and wobbly. I reach out to grab him as he tilts a bit too far to the right. "I am alright, Dean, please refrain from touching me. I don't know what I'll do if you..."

But I touch him anyway. No god/angel is gonna tell me I can't help a friend out because he's all of a sudden divine. He doesn't protest, simply leans into my shoulder and entwines his fingers through mine. He's cold and clammy, not a good sign.

In that moment I realize that, no matter what he did, no matter who he's killed in the last few hours, I will always be here for him. Sure, I'm mad but fuck, who wouldn't be. The angelic bastard betrayed me, and it hurt worst that Sammy feeding me to vamps or having Dad die to save me. I trusted him, learned to trust him – no one told me to listen to him, I had no obligation to trust him – it was all me. And he ended up backstabbing me and working with the friggin' King of Hell.

But even with all that, I forgive him. Deep under all that gunk and angel superiority I know Castiel, I know my angel. I know, given another choice, he wouldn't have done this. Had I been more attentive to the signs or more open with him, this might have been avoided. Hell, if I'd just stayed with him everything would have been fine. Better yet, if we'd killed Crowley the first chance we got instead of waiting, we wouldn't be in this mess.

His body is shaking, his touch is cold and his forehead is wet with cold sweat. It is not a good sign and yet he refuses to de-nuke himself. I try to convince him but he is adamant. His eyes never meet mine and somehow it hurts knowing that he would rather stare at his shoes than look at me. But I continue to press and eventually, as he sits down in the passenger seat of Impala, he pulls away from me.

"I still have work to be done," he says with a wavering voice. "I cannot stop now, Dean. S-soon..."

"Soon what?" I snap turning away in anger. He doesn't reply, instead he holds out his shaking hands, turning them this way and that. I go to him, take his hands in mine and make him look at me. His eyes are the most saddest, most terrified eyes I've ever seen.

"Soon... I'll be done and w-we can-" he stops, his eyes moving behind me where I assume someone is coming. I press on even as the person, Sam, I assume by the ground pounding with each step, yells, "Dean!"

"Soon we can what?" I press, my hands gripping Cas' tighter so that he won't escape from me. I can't let him go, not when I just got him back. "Soon what?"

"Soon we can be together," he says before leaving with a gust of wind. I fall forwards on to Baby, her metal frame digging into my skin, as Sam approaches.

"Was that Cas?"

"No shit, Sherlock," I reply.

* * *

A few nights later, he comes to me in a dream. Its almost like he's taunting me, bating me to say those magic words that seem to be forever caged in my heart and soul. I can't say I love him and I forgive him, it one or the other, never both. It bugs him going by the way he frequents my dreams and continues to leave presents for me in the morning. Waking up to a muffler is great – for Baby – but waking up to a bright blue-eyed angel would be heaven.

In the dream, we are in his heaven. I can feel that it's _his_ heaven even without him saying so. Everything about it is so Castiel, from the peaceful autistic man with the gigantic smile on his face to the brilliant flowers and shinning green grass. I stand a little ways away from the man as he flies his colourful kite, searching for Castiel.

I wander over to a small bench in the thick of the forest. The bench, made of stone probably older than me, is in the middle of a small opening surrounded by impossibly green and impossibly large trees. I sit on it, looking around in awe at the beautiful place that's Castiel's sanctuary. Far more beautiful than anything I could ever come up with, it surprises me that Castiel would pick it. But then again, he is full of surprises.

"Do you like it?" Castiel's deep voice says from behind. I stand too startled to say anything but a small yelp. He looks... different. His voice is a bit off; still commanding by his tone is more like Jimmy's. His stance is awkward, like if he's tilting to one side to avoid falling over. But mostly he looks fucked up.

"They still allow you in here?" I ask as he walks towards me. He flashes me the most brilliant smile ever and doesn't say anything. Oh, I forgot, he's the new god. He can go anywhere he wants to go but to see me in person longer than five minutes. "Why am I here?"

"We need to talk," he replies sitting down on the bench and motioning for me to do the same. The bench, sturdy as it may be, is small. Sitting down would mean being forced to practically sit on Cas' lap - smelling his scent, touching him, sharing breath, feeling his warmth, God... – I don't think I can handle that. I remain standing, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm waiting."

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he leans down on his elbows. He rubs his face, threading his fingers through his hair and rubbing at his neck. He's nervous and afraid, I can tell by those mare touches. I say nothing, my eyes following his every movement. After a minute, his silence is overwhelming. I move to sit next to him, damn him and his reverse psychology crap.

"I asked for revelation a few weeks ago," he begins. "It was during a time when I questioned what I was meant to do. You'd figured out I was working with Crowley and all I wanted to do was go back and change the past. I sat here, in this very spot, begging God to give me a sign, any sign. And he did."

I wait, my eyes never leaving the crumbled form of the angel of Thursday, but the answer never comes. Biting my lower lip, I wait a moment to make sure he isn't just taking a dramatic pause and ask, "What did God show you?"

He doesn't reply, he raises his hand and points to a nearby tree. Confused, I stand up and go to the tree. I see nothing until I'm right in front of it. I seems childish, the carving on the tree but it made my breath catch and my eyes tear. God... had sent this?

"I was ... begging when I heard a voice, a man's voice, and when I looked over I saw this," Castiel says right next to me. I jump a bit, still not used to his quick movement even after nearly 3 years. "Your voice, Dean, I heard your voice calling out to me. Read it, read what God has put on that tree."

"Cas..." I look at him, his face so stern and eyes tense. He looks as wild a pack of starving Wendigo's. He points at it, his eyes meeting mine and chilling me to my core. He's changed, I realize, he is not the same nerd angel I met all that time ago. I'm sure if I like this new Castiel, this _God_ Castiel, but I know I miss the baby in a trench coat who would tilt his head at my references and would blink many times before letting it go.

"Read it," he insisted.

So I did. Carved into the tree were the words: Come back to me, Cas. The same words I whispered the night he came to Bobby's, our last night. The same words that I would to scream out to the world, the universe, everyone if they would bring him back to me.

"Come back to me, Cas," I repeat turning to him. His jaw tightened, and his eyes search mine. I mean what I say, even if this is a dream, I want him back. I want _my_ Cas back.

"I-I can't, Dean," Castiel mutters softly, his voice returning to his deep rock drilling of a tone that I missed so much.

"Then I'll wait," I reply. "I'll be here, waiting."

Our eyes meet, impossibly blue and tearful green, and it seems like the world fades away. I feel him lean closer to me, his eyes never leaving mine, but it is all an illusion. I snap awake a second later with an annoyed scream and tears running down my face. I wipe at them, turning on the lap by the bed Bobby had let me used.

On the pillow next to me, lays a single black feather and a wooden carving with the words, "One day... soon."


	9. Chapter 9

**_Title: _**_Everytime_

**Beta:** None. All mistakes are my own.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Time:** S7:E1: Meet The New Boss, S7:E2: Hello, Cruel World, mentions of Season four-ish to Five-ish_  
_

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. Some dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke._

_**Note:** _I was having personal issues earlier this week but the season finale made me too happy and fangirly to care about them. OMFG can you believe it? I kinda liked Dick... and the dick jokes. BUT OMG!

* * *

_**Chapter Six: Part Three of Three**_

_Dean walked into the apartment he and his brother had commandeered. Okay, they were squatting in an abandoned apartment building in Chicago but there was no need to announce it to everyone. Anyway, he could pretend that for once they had a decent place to sleep in. He was getting tired of sleeping in cheap motels with the same wallpaper and pee smelling carpets. It was nice to have separate rooms and bathrooms as well the space it gave them both. He loved Sammy but four years on the road and his patience with the man's snoring was getting pretty thin._

_He'd called Castiel the moment they had found the building, telling him where they would be in case he needed something, and so he wasn't surprise to walk in and find the angel standing in the middle of the living room. He had a strange, far away look on his face that turned into a full-smile when he saw Dean enter. He couldn't help but to smile back at the angel, it was rare to see Castiel smile wide and with a spark in his eyes. Those impossibly blue eyes that were so hypnotic he sometimes felt he was slowly falling into them. _

_Closing the door and taking a deep calming breath, Dean walked past Castiel. He went into the kitchen, setting down the small bag of 'food' he had bought at the nearby 711, with the angel on his heels. He rummaged through the bag, taking out his things and leaving Sam's. Castiel was standing too close again but he was getting used to it. He sometimes missed the angel's body heat... but that was a topic he didn't like to think about. _

_"Wassup, Cas?" he asked sitting down on a chair and motioning for Castiel to do the same. "Need anything or just popping in to say hey?"_

_"I – no, I just wanted to check up on you," Castiel said with a tilt of his head. "I felt... strange."_

_"You felt strange and you thought of us? Gee, thanks, Cas." Dean snorted, opening the can of frosting and whip cream. He felt Castiel follow his movements and, getting nervous, asked, "What kind of feeling?"_

_"A ... a sinking feeling, I think it is called," Castiel replied looking down at his clasped hands. "Also, I felt the need to ... cry."_

_Dean stopped organizing his foods and looked at the angel. Castiel had his eyes downwards, his lip set in a line and eyes narrowed – he looked even more constipated then usual. It was odd, though, that need to cry, as he described it. Angels didn't cry._

_"I also felt a need to be close to you, Dean," Castiel said looking up and meeting Dean's eyes with his intense stare. "I _needed_ to be near you. I found you, through my mark on your shoulder, while you were shopping and while you were on the road. I appeared in the house just as you got out of the Impala."_

_"Creepy, Cas, very creepy." Dean looked down, his shaking hands betraying his racing thoughts and heart. "A-are you okay now? I mean, you seem fine, but I can never tell with you. Your like that Twilight chick, emotionless."_

_"Um... thank you?" _

_Dean shook his head, a small smile on his lips. Castiel knew what he was talking about; Sam had forced them to watch all the Twilight films made thus far on a dare. Not fun having to explain to Cas why movie vampires didn't have large teeth and fingernails and why they drank animal blood instead of human blood when they surrounded themselves with humans. Even worse, having to explain why the Vampire married the chick and how she got pregnant. He still hated Sam for that 'movie dare night'._

_"Not a compliment but... you didn't answer my question." Castiel continued to look at Dean while Dean avoided the blue eyes that searched his face and traced his every movement. When Castiel put his hand on Dean's to stop him from opening the warm pancakes he'd bought on the way over, Dean looked up. "Are you sure you're okay, Cas?"_

_Castiel's hand remained on Dean's, a sensation he found himself liking, and said with a small sad smile, "I am now." He removed his hand just as Sam entered the house, screaming out for Dean. The hunter had never felt so cold and alone before..._

* * *

It didn't sink in, Cas' betrayal, until Baby was fixed and I had nothing to do but think. I should have seen the signs, I knew him better than most and he even managed to fool me. Hell, I should've seen it coming what with the way I treated him half the time. Things were difficult between us for a bit, I know I was the problem most of the time, but I didn't think were so bad that he would go to a demon like Crowley instead of me. We've been sleeping together months, for fuck's sake, and slowly falling (more like skyrocketing) in love, or at least I was.

Difficult to explain, this love I feel – felt - for him yet there it was. It washed upon me like the Trickster, took me by surprise and all that chick-flick stuff. I was this tough, one nightstand only kind of guy and then this angel (an angel, for fuck's sake!) came along and puff! I was a goner. He tried to explain it to me once, a long time ago, but I hadn't listened. I wanted Sam to be whole again and this _thing_ with Cas was a distraction. I didn't want chitchat I wanted to forget by doing the one thing I knew could make me forget: by having sex with my angel.

* * *

_It felt nice, this sticking around after orgasm. Dean had never felt more safe and secure than in the arms of his trusty guardian angel. It was weird though, how his mind would blanket over and his thoughts disappear the moment their lips touched. It was nice, thought, not having to think of anything or any_one_ for as long as he was with Castiel. It's not like the angel would complain, either way, he liked Dean as much as Dean was getting to like him. It was fairly obvious if you knew where to look, Dean knew because he had searched for the signs._

_Sam was... somewhere being all-soulless and Bobby was somewhere unimportant at the moment. All that mattered now were Castiel's strangely strong arms around his waist and the feel of his lips on his neck as they sucked on that spot behind his ear. He moaned out in pleasure, his orgasm high somehow increasing. Castiel smiled against his skin before sitting up on the small bed. _

_"It's your soul, you know?" Castiel whispered sadly, his eyes dropping to his hands. "Your soul is the one most attracted to me and every time I touch you, it makes you want me more."_

_"That may be," Dean said, pulling the angel back to the bed and wrapping his arms around him. "But it's my body that yearns for you, my mind that thinks about you and my hands that touch you. My soul wants you? Well, its gonna have to fight the rest of me to get you."_

* * *

It was his soul that I loved, perhaps that was why I took him - the real him - for granted and drove him away. The way he felt beside me didn't quiet register in my brain until he was no longer there. His stupid, adorable head tilt wasn't quite as stupid when it was gone and replaced by an overconfident God that killed people. His eyes were the same; I took comfort in that because maybe under all that shit he was on, laid the real Castiel. My Castiel and it meant I could have him back; I could take him home and be with him no matter meant we still had a chance and that chance was getting closer and closer as Sam, Bobby and I made a plan. A plan that might or might not get us killed or worse by '_Godtiel'_ or, worse, by Death himself.

Summoning Death is our plan and, as we prepare to do it, I find myself doubting what my actions will do to Castiel. Hell, he probably knows what we are doing and is probably going to try to stop us. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I don't think I can take another confrontation with him. I'm going to be lucky if I even make it past our eyes meeting. But Dean appears before I can stop this and soon, Castiel appears too.

"Amazing," Castiel says behind us, instantly turning my body into mush. Its been far too long since I've heard his deep voice and it goes right through me, punching me in the heart the moment I turn and see those full lips. "I didn't want to kill you, but now..."

"You can't kill us," I whisper out with as much confidence and certainty as I can. Inside, I'm shaking like a schoolgirl counting the seconds until our eyes meet again.

"You've erased any nostalgia I had for you, Dean." It breaks my heart beyond measure, hearing him say that. But I remain calm, fisting my hands and concentration on remaining upright and alive. My attention is fully on Cas but when Death says something about melting, I let out a shaky breath.

"You're going to explode," Death says with a finality that scares me beyond anything before. Was I going to loose Cas for all eternity?

"No, I'm not," Castiel says, his eyes flickering to mine, with certainty. "When I've finished my work, I'll repair myself."

I concentrate on breathing, my eyes snapping between Castiel and Death. Sam is as silent as I've ever seen him, too stunned to do anything but look. I'm stuck between running to Cas and hugging him or tackling him.

"Wait-" I interrupt as Death turns his gaze to mine. "Uh, what older things?"

"Long before God created Angel and Man, he made the first beasts – the Leviathans," Death explains with a monotonous voice that is too boring to be real. "I personally found them amusing, but he was concerned they'd chomp the entire petri dish, so he locked them away. But now Castiel has swallowed them all. He's the one thin membrane between the old ones and your home."

"Enough." Castiel's eyes snap to mine. I see his hands shaking at his sides but I can't help what comes out next.

"Stupid little soldier you are," I tell him with as much anger as I can muster.

"Why?" the angel challenges. "Because I dared open a door that he shut? Where is he? I did a service, taking his place."

In the end our plan failed and, although I'd never admit it out loud, I was glad Death didn't kill Castiel. I don't think I could take looking at him when he took the last plunge. I don't think I could take seeing the life drain from his body, from his eyes, and not do something about it. But Death did give us a way to get those souls out of Cas and for that, I will be eternally grateful (if it works, that is).


End file.
